


EDEN (after a wrong turn or two).

by hellhounds4sale



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Almost Drowning, Alternate Universe, Angel Family, Coffeeshop AU, College AU, M/M, Michael is a veteran
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-06-07 13:17:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 33,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6806431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellhounds4sale/pseuds/hellhounds4sale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gadreel honestly just wanted a coffee when he wandered into the small cafe. Now he's got a date with the cute barista who seems strangely familiar and an old battered copy of 'Alice in Wonderland'. Honestly he's actually pretty ok with this turn of events.</p>
<p>Now if he could just get the dreams to stop...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The first thing Gadreel does after dumping the last of his stuff into his new dorm room, is to pull out his phone and do a search for local coffee houses. He skips over the listing for the local Starbucks; and instead grabs the address of the nearest independent place.

 

The cafe seems like a good choice when he walks through the door, it's bright and cheerful and the girl behind the counter takes his order with a bouncy enthusiasm. She seems to know what she's doing as well, pulling his order ("Just a latte please") together with ease, and Gadreel has high hopes right up until he takes his first sip. He keeps his smile pleasant, thanks the girl once more and beats a hasty retreat back onto the street, coffee in hand; and starts the walk back to campus. Gadreel waits until he's a block away before gulping down as much of the coffee as he can stand and dropping the mostly full cup into the nearest bin.

 

Gadreel doesn't consider himself a snob when it comes to coffee, it's not that he's particularly bothered about brand or quality, and it's not even that he wants his coffee brewed in any special way. He's just picky. His father - back when Gadreel was much younger and before the man had passed away - had liked coffee, or more exactly he'd liked some vague off-brand that Gadreel had never bothered to pay attention to, and on early morning school runs he'd allow Gadreel to have a sip or two of it over breakfast. The taste had stayed with him over the years, even as other memories of his father grew dim.

 

The smell of coffee always brought back good memories, but it never did manage to taste right to him, and he'd made it a bit of a personal quest to try and find the coffee that did. It wasn't a massive thing, honestly he wasn't even that big of a fan of coffee, and too much caffeine always left him feeling uncomfortably jittery. But every Saturday morning, Gadreel would head out to a new coffee shop, and spend the next couple of weeks working his way through their menu before moving onto another shop. If nothing else it kept him meeting new people and places, and he liked the ritual of it.

 

Between his new class schedule, part-time job hunting and all the other new adventures and events that came with starting University, it takes Gadreel a good couple of months before he moves onto his next coffee shop (not without some sadness; the barista really had been sweet as anything). The next place turns out to be particularly unpleasant, the coffee's always watery and bitter, and the owner foul tempered, so Gadreel's more than happy to move onto the next place as soon as he can.

 

The next one's a suggestion from a classmate, it's only a short walk from campus and tucked in down a rarely used side street. It hadn't even been listed on Gadreel's phone's app and it takes him a good ten minutes of searching to find the little building. It's called 'Eden', and when he walks through the door Gadreel's greeted by the warm scent of coffee and vanilla biscuits. Except what he's walked into is actually a book shop, and for a moment Gadreel thinks he's got the wrong place, until he notices the corner of the shop that's taken over by a small cafe.

 

Gadreel hesitates in the doorway, the shop is fairly small and currently completely empty of other customers. There's something very personal about the whole place that makes him feel awkward at the idea of ordering coffee and leaving like he'd planned. The cafe has a seating area, full of big squishy looking leather armchairs and polished wood tables and after a moment longer of hesitation Gadreel makes his way over to them. There's books piled haphazardly on the center of the tables, a mismatching selection of creased paperbacks and faded leather bound titles. There's something utterly charming about it, and Gadreel can't help swiping his fingers across the gilt lettering on a hardback copy of 'Alice in Wonderland'.

 

When he glances back up there's a man leaning against the display counter watching him with a faint smile, he's all dark hair and steel eyes and the slow way his smile grows when Gadreel smiles faintly back sends a sharp spike of heat through Gadreel's belly. There's something so very familiar about the man, though Gadreel's sure he's never met him before. It feels like he should have though, like he's just met an old friend for the first time in years. After a moment the feeling fades and he's left with just the faint glow of attraction. 'Eden' is definitely not what he'd been expecting.

 

"The books are free to read if you wanna order something," The man nods his head towards the book Gadreel's still resting his hand on. "They're not good enough quality to sell, so we figure they might as well earn their keep some other way."

 

"Smart." Gadreel feels awkward under the shop keeper's gaze, and he pulls away from the book, shoving his hands into the pocket of his hoodie instead.

 

"Be a shame to have them go to waste," The man shrugs, and Gadreel wanders close enough to pick out the name Michael embroidered across the breast of the apron he's wearing. "Anyway, can I get you anything, or are you just browsing?"

 

"Coffee please."

 

"Sure. What type?" There's that smile again and Gadreel glances over to the chalkboard scrawled with the menu and hesitates. He can barely make out the chicken-scratch handwriting on the board, and his mind has gone horrifyingly blank all of a sudden. The silence stretches a moment too long to be anything other than awkward and Gadreel grasps at the first reply to come to mind.

 

"What would you suggest?" It's trite and cliché and he winces internally even before he's even finished saying it. Michael hums faintly like he's trying not to laugh and his smile is more of a smirk this time.

 

"Well, if you like it sweet my brother'll swear by the caramel marochino, personally I'm more a fan of simple stuff like a latte. Never had much of a sweet tooth though." Michael leans against the counter again, and Gadreel's stomach does another little flip as the sudden closeness sends the smell of the barista's aftershave wafting over him. It's something surprisingly gentle that reminds him vaguely of honeysuckle.

 

"Sounds good then, the latte I mean." He's pretty sure he's not made this much of a fool of himself in years, and this time Michael does laugh, soft and not really mean, as he pushes away from the counter to head over to the shiny looking coffee machine. It seems misplaced in the rest of the shop, but Michael handles it with practiced ease anyway.

 

"Sure, no problem. You want anything to eat with that?" Michael asks. Gadreel shakes his head in response, and then realizes Michael still has his back to him and flushes faintly, clearing his throat.

 

"No thanks." It's not really silent, with the gurgling of the coffee machine and clattering as Michael gathers up cup and saucer, but Gadreel still feels strangely awkward anyway, and he gropes around for something to say. "Does your brother work here too, or does he just like the coffee?"

 

"Oh he works here, it's a family place. You want sugar?" Michael twists round to glance at him at the last part, and Gadreel shakes his head. "We tend to take turns, Gabe's manning the books today actually." He turns around with coffee in hand just as Gadreel glances about the still otherwise empty shop, and hums in amusement again. "Yeah I know, he's off 'restocking merchandise', which I expect will actually turn out to mean emptying out the nearest sweet shop. Guess you're stuck with just me for now. Here you go." Michael places the coffee on the counter with a faint clink, there's the silhouette of a pair of wings drawn expertly across the foam and Gadreel can't help but stare.

 

"That's really impressive." The words slip from him before he can think about it, and Michael’s responding smile is something warm and proud.

 

"Thanks, I get a lot of practice when the shops quiet to be honest." Michael shrugs faintly behind the cash register as he sorts out change. He hands the coins to Gadreel, then reaches into a little basket by the cash register and sets a little foil wrapped biscuit onto Gadreel's saucer just as the little bell above the door rings out to announce another customer. "Almost forgot. Feel free to sit at any of the tables, and just give me a yell if you want anything else, I'll just be across the shop." Michael shoots him one more bright smile and then heads out from behind the counter towards the new customer.

 

Gadreel gathers up his coffee after a moment, and heads back to the table with the copy of Alice. The chairs are exactly as squishy as they look, and he sinks pleasantly into the leather when he sits. The book creaks faintly when he opens it, the pages are dog eared and at some point a child had taken crayons to the illustration of Alice and the White Rabbit at the front of the book. They'd colored the rabbit in pink with yellow polka dots, and so distracted Gadreel takes his first sip of the coffee without thinking. And then freezes.

 

The coffee's perfect.

 

Or actually, it's just slightly too bitter for Gadreel's tastes, and still too hot to be comfortably drunk. But that doesn't matter, because it tastes exactly like he remembers his dad's coffee tasting, and then Gadreel isn't sat in a slightly too squishy chair, surrounded by the scent of books and coffee and staring at Alice in a purple and green dress. Instead he's sat in the too bright kitchen of his childhood home, sleepy eyed and grumpy, working his way through a soggy bowl of cereal and watching his dad make his morning coffee. The memory is sharp enough to hurt, and Gadreel closes his eyes and lets himself sink into it as he takes another sip of coffee. Remembers eyeing his father's cup as the man sat across from him with his own breakfast; remembers amusement and deals of "Finish your cereal and you can have a sip." and then finally the bitter heat of coffee over admonishments of "Just don't tell your Mom."

 

He comes back to himself over the last dregs of his coffee, warm and content in a way that lingers long past the drink itself. The books still open to the cover page in front of him and when Gadreel glances up the shops empty once more. Michael's perched on a tall stool behind the counter, a book open in his own hands and as if he feels Gadreel's gaze on him the man looks up. He really is achingly handsome and with the warmth of coffee and memories still soothing him, Gadreel smiles warmly across at him. Michael's responding smile is surprised but seemingly pleased and he hops down from the stool to lean against the counter again.

 

"Almost thought you'd fallen asleep there, coffee ok?"

 

"Yes, it's perfect." Gadreel spins the cup slightly between his fingers and smiles self-consciously down at the swirl of coffee and foam at the bottom of it.

 

"Don't think I've ever had anyone call it perfect before but I'm glad you like. You need anything else?" For a moment Gadreel's tempted to grab another cup, maybe try one of the danishes on display, but then his waiting coursework looms large in his mind and he shakes his head. He'd only been planning to stop in for coffee to go, and there's papers and reading waiting for him back at his dorm room. As he stands to leave, Gadreel flips the cover of 'Alice in Wonderland' closed, and then pauses, strangely unwilling to leave the book. He feels oddly like he's found something he hadn't know he'd been missing.

 

"I know you mentioned these books aren't for sale, but I don't suppose there's any chance I could buy this one anyway?" Gadreel feels silly even as he speaks, gaze fixed on the books stained cover and completely at a loss for why he's suddenly so attached to it.

 

"'Alice' right? Tell you what, I'll do you a trade," Michael disappears briefly behind the counter and emerges with a small stack of flyers in his hand. "Based on your hoodie, I'm guessing you go to King James, so take some of these back with you and you can have the book for free."

 

"That sounds fair." Gadreel can't help the smile that stretches his lips, and he ducks his head to hide it as he makes his way back to the counter. The flyers are surprisingly well designed, he'd been expecting something more home spun like the rest of the place, but instead they're all neat text over a bright photo of the shops interior, 'Eden' penned out in flowing calligraphy across the top. He tucks them into his hoodie pocket with care, and tries not to shiver at the faint brush of Michael's fingers against his own when he takes them. 

 

"It's a deal then. Hope to see you in here again. Oh, here," Michael says, as he reaches into the basket by the cash register again and hands Gadreel another foil wrapped biscuit. "One for the road."

 

Gadreel twists the little biscuit between his fingers, and murmurs his thanks even as he shuffles towards the door, the copy of 'Alice in Wonderland' tucked safely under his arm. He can feel Michael's eyes on his back the whole way through the shop, and the taste of the coffee lingers distractingly through the rest of his day.

 


	2. Chapter 2

He thinks about returning to the shop most of the following week, but something in him hesitates at the thought, and the more Gadreel considers it, the more he's not sure if it's the coffee or the man serving it that's causing him such indecision. By Thursday the flyers he'd dropped off in the common room have mostly disappeared, and he's not sure why that fact sort of irks at him. The book's still sat on the edge of his desk where he dropped it and Gadreel keeps catching himself running fingertips over the gilt lettering of the title when he's meant to be studying.

 

Saturday rolls around again with something strikingly like relief. Aside from one short paper due Monday Gadreel's weekend is blissfully free, and for once it's more than just the ritual of it that has him heading out for coffee first thing. 'Eden' smells like caramel popcorn when he enters, which is mildly disconcerting layered over the scent of books and coffee. There's a man humming brightly to himself as he shelves books, and he turns with a grin when the little bell above the door chimes to announce Gadreel's entrance.

 

“Hey there, can I help you with anything?” He chirps. There's no other way to properly describe the amount of bouncing enthusiasm in the man's voice, and the full force of it's enough that Gadreel falters slightly in the doorway.

 

"No, thank you, I'm just-" He glances over toward the little cafe in the corner of the shop. There's no one behind the counter and Gadreel suddenly feels intensely disappointed. He'd assumed that Michael would be there again, and when he turns back to the waiting man, there’s something almost malicious about the smile on the man's face. "Uh, browsing?"

 

"You don't sound too sure there kiddo," The smile is definitely more of a smirk now. "Shop's all yours though, shout if you need anything. Mikey should be back in a bit if you were looking to browse for something other than books."

 

The man turns back to shelving with an honest to god wink, and Gadreel scurries between the nearest aisle of books with a sense of faint relief. He's not quite sure what's got into him, he's not been this easily flustered since he was a kid. Gadreel's always been slightly awkward, social situations don't seem to go right for him and he knows (because people seem to take great joy in repeatedly telling him so) that he comes across as fairly standoffish. The whole babbling awkwardness though, that's something he thought he'd grown out of along with his Batman pajamas.

 

Although it isn't what he came here for, Gadreel takes his time browsing the shelves anyway, and the relative quiet of the place (the shopkeepers humming as he works, but the sound is surprisingly nice) works well to smooth over the strange nervousness that's settled into his stomach. At some point he thinks he hears the door again, and then the soft noise of conversation, but Gadreel's too focused on his task to pay it any mind. Now he's started looking, he finds the shops book selections fascinating. It's a jumbled mix of old and new, titles in English and French and Arabic and a load more that Gadreel can't place, and when he finally wanders out of the aisle it's with more than a few books clutched to his chest.

 

He's still focused on the little leather bound book of psalms he'd dug out from between a battered copy of Hamlet and a Dresden Files paperback, and it takes Gadreel a moment before he looks up and notices Michael watching him from behind his counter. Michael waves and Gadreel's intensely glad that the small pile of books in his arms prevents him from instinctively waving back. Instead he tries really not to look a complete fool and smiles back instead, taking a quick step towards the cafe and promptly almost jumps out of his skin when the other shopkeeper seems to materialize at his side.

 

"Huh, guess you really were just browsing," The man grins at him and reaches out to pluck the books from Gadreel's hands. "Hey if you're done looking, I can ring these up for you if you wanted to grab something from Mikey." He doesn't wait past Gadreel's confused agreement before the man disappears off towards the back of the shop, leaving Gadreel stood blinking in surprise.

 

Michael manages not to laugh when Gadreel finally heads over to the counter, though from the look on his face it's a close thing. He's still wearing the same apron, and he's still unfairly attractive and Gadreel can't bring himself to fully make eye contact, as much as he may want to.

 

"Sorry about that, my brother's just got one speed for everything," Michael says, as he leans up against the far side of the counter. "Glad to see you in here again, liked the coffee that much?" It's softly teasing, but Gadreel still feels his cheeks heat slightly anyway. There's something about the other man that just leaves him feeling off balance and awkward.

 

"Something like that." He manages.

 

"Huh," Michael tilts his head slightly and smiles. "Well then, can I get you anything this time? Uh, not that you have to or anything, if it was just the books you were after." Somehow just the way Michael's face twists slightly in embarrassment as he adds the last bit is enough to dispel the faint unease in Gadreel's chest and he relaxes.

 

"Coffee would be great actually-"

 

"Latte, right?" Michael jumps in before he can finish the order, and the fact that he remembers makes Gadreel smile silly as it might be and he nods in agreement.

 

"So hey, how're you liking the book? Got to the bit with the Jabberwocky? That was always my favorite. Or wait, is that Through the Looking Glass?" Michael asks, and as he reaches for a cup the other shopkeeper slides into place next to him, bag in one hand and a twist of receipt paper in the other, just in time to catch the last of Michael's words.

 

The man's eyes widen suddenly and he bounces up on the balls of his feet. "Oh, oh! You're Alice!"

 

"Gabriel!" Michael sets the coffee cup down with a crack against the counter top, and Gadreel can only stare wide eyed back at the both of them.

 

"It's just Gadreel actually." He says finally and then watches the slow grin that stretches Gabriel's mouth with a sort of dawning prophetic horror.

 

"I dunno,” he drawls out, eyes sliding up and down the length of Gadreel's torso pointedly, “You look more like an Alice to me."

 

There's a heavy thud from next to them as Michael drops his head down against the counter. He stays like that for a moment before raising his head again to glare at his brother. "Gabriel?"

 

"Michael."

 

"Fuck off please." Michael's voice is a sickly sweet sing-song and Gabriel laughs sharply in response.

 

"Well I can see when I'm not wanted," Gabriel says already pushing away from the counter, he waves at Gadreel as he passes. "Have fun. Later Alice!"

 

Michael drops his head back down again with a groan at the last part. "Oh man, I'm so sorry about that. He's been insufferable all day."

 

"Don't worry about it." Gadreel smiles faintly, face slightly warm and he shrugs when Michael lifts his head just enough to peer disbelievingly up at him.

 

"Yeah well let me make it up to you anyway," Michael straightens as he speaks. "Since somebody seems to like being an asshole to our customers!" The last is yelled off to the side, and Gabriel's sharp laughter rings back from somewhere inside the warren of bookcases he's retreated to. Gadreel can't help his own soft huff of laughter, and Michael grins slyly back at him. "Seriously though lemme get you that coffee on the house ok?"

 

There doesn't really seem much to say to that, so Gadreel nods and pointedly tries to ignore the way his stomach flips over at the warm smile that gets him in response. The coffee's as good as he remembers it being, and he lingers at the counter after the first sip. "So Alice huh?"

 

Michael grimaces slightly. "Yeah, sorry, one of my other brothers noticed it was gone and then wouldn't drop it until I explained. And well, Gabriel's kind of a dick so..."

 

Gadreel wants to ask more about that, he's an only child himself and there's something oddly fascinating about what he's heard of Michael's family, but he can't think of a polite way to broach the topic with someone who is effectively a stranger. Michael and the shop have been playing on his mind so much over the past week that it's a bit unsettling to remember that he's only actually met the guy once before. So instead he sips his coffee and tries not to feel completely awkward hovering at the counter while he wracks his brain for anything to say.

 

Michael doesn't seem to mind the company at least, and after a moment he disappears behind the counter and emerges with a cookie from the display cabinet on a little plate, and offers Gadreel half of it. It's sweet and chewy and gives the silence between them an excuse not to be awkward. The smile Michael gives him when Gadreel murmurs his thanks makes something tight twist in his chest, and Gadreel basks in the warmth of it through the rest of his coffee.

 

"So uh look," Michael says, and when Gadreel looks over at him he's staring at the remainder of the cookie on his plate as he picks at it. "Feel free to tell me to fuck off if I'm reading this the wrong way, but would you like to go out with me sometime?" By the end he glances back up at Gadreel and he looks hopeful but serious.

 

Gadreel blinks, opens his mouth, blinks again then quickly replays Michael's words through his head and blinks once more for good measure. "Do you mean on a date?"

 

"That was the general idea yeah." Michael sounds nervous, and Gadreel hums in response, eyes fixed on the coffee cup he's still holding. He sets it down against the counter with a faint click and makes himself actually look at Michael when he replies.

 

"I'd love that." The earnest grin that gets him makes his stomach tighten warmly and he watches Michael scurry over to the cash register and back again with a faint sense of pleasant disbelief. This wasn't the turn of events he was expecting today but he's hardly complaining. He's still doing the quiet tingly thing while Michael scrawls a number onto the back of a business card and Gadreel smiles when their fingers brush as he's handed it. He tucks it carefully into his pocket.

 

"I'm free pretty much most evenings, and I can always pull rank on Gabe if I need to, so I mean whenever's good for you works for me." Michael says, and Gadreel nods faintly, traces the edges of the business card in his pocket as he thinks quickly.

 

"Classes have been busy recently, but I've got this weekend free. If that's not too soon?" He feels a bit awkward suggesting something so soon, but he's not actually sure when else he's going to have any time free otherwise.

 

"Not at all, tomorrow then? Movie and dinner's still the tradition right?" Michael asks and Gadreel swallows hard and nods his agreement. It's suddenly hit him that the very intense, very attractive man across from him has asked him out, and the realization is making his head swim a little. As if he notices, Michael's voice goes soft and warm when he speaks again. "Say four at the movie theater in town?"

 

Gadreel nods again in response, not quite trusting his voice just yet and as he does so the bell above the shops door rings out brightly. The pair of girls that enter catch Michael's attention, but a moment later his brother pops up from the warren of bookcases and he relaxes back against the counter again. Gadreel glances over at the new customers himself, and then remembers his own pile of books waiting to be paid for. "Sorry, I'm keeping you when you're working."

 

"Trust me I'm not complaining," Michael says, sounding vaguely amused. "Besides, being able to slack off is one of the perks of being the owner. Or co-owner, co-ner?" His nose wrinkles slightly in consideration and Gadreel huffs softly with laughter in response.

 

"Doesn't have quite the same ring to it."

 

"I'll find a good word for it one day," Michael says and then pauses, eyebrows raised, as the door opens again. Gadreel vaguely recognizes the guy who wanders in from his Victorian Literature class and he returns his classmates waved greeting halfheartedly. "Friend of yours?"

 

"We share a class."

 

"Huh, guess giving you the flyers worked out then."

 

"I may have left a few in my literature classes," Gadreel smiles slightly at the bright grin that admission earns him, and then straightens. "Speaking of, I've a paper due on Monday so I should probably get going. Since, well, busy tomorrow now."

 

"Oh right," Michael bounces up from the counter, and if he sounds a little bit disappointed his smile hides it well enough. "Considering I keep giving my brother grief for avoiding doing his classwork I'll have to applaud your work ethic. Which reminds me, let me just ring you up before I forget."

 

Gadreel follows him over to the cash register to pay, and smiles when Michael tosses him a foil wrapped biscuit from the jar next to it again. He'd never eaten the one from his last visit, and it'd sat on his bedside table for most of the week until his roommate had grabbed it during a study session. When Michael passes him the bag his books are in, his hand brushes against Gadreel's far more than it needs to and the touch sends little frissons of shock up the length of his arm. He swallows.

 

“So tomorrow at four right?” Gadreel asks, voice slightly too tight in response.

 

“Tomorrow.” Michael echoes back, and follows Gadreel half way to the door before noticing the lady making a beeline for his counter. The smile he shoots Gadreel is small and sheepish and they say quick goodbyes before Michael skitters back to the waiting customer.

 

He makes the walk back to campus with his mind rolling in a fog of pleasant surprise. In hindsight, Gadreel isn't quite sure what just happened, he's not usually the type to jump at dates with strangers; but there's something about Michael that just feels _familiar_ to him. Almost like he's known the guy for years, though Gadreel's pretty damn certain he's never met him before. It's feels like he's waiting for a revelation and like he's forgotten something really important all at once.

 

Gadreel can't deny his excitement though, it bleeds through in the slight smile he can't seem to keep from his lips and the way his chest feels full to bursting. Which really, even to him seems a bit of an overreaction to being asked out by a guy he'd only met a week ago.

 

He's in enough of a daze when he gets back to his dorm room that even his roommate notices. He shrugs faintly at Abner's questioning look, and after a moment's thought tosses him the wrapped biscuit as a distraction. As he does so Gadreel's hand brushes against the business card in his hoodie pocket, and he waits until he's settled onto his bed to pull it out, thumb tracing the edges of it thoughtfully. He'll answer Abner's questions later, right now he kind of just wants to bask in the moment.

 


	3. Chapter 3

The door swings shut behind the last of their customers, and Michael leans against his counter with a sigh. He gets a moment to himself before Gabriel swings himself up to sit on the counter next to him. Gabriel's heels drum against the side of the counter and Michael ignores him pointedly, ducking his head when his bother pokes at his shoulder instead.

 

"Ok I know that look, what did you do?" Gabriel pokes at him again, sharp finger finding the same spot instinctively and Michael slaps his hand away. Gabriel pauses, regards him quietly for a moment and then reaches out to poke his shoulder again.

 

Michael sighs, and shoves at his brother's hip to get him to move over before hoisting himself up to sit on the counter as well. His thigh throbs in complaint at the sudden movement after a day on his feet and he reaches down to massage it wearily. Gabriel doesn't poke him again, but his silence is deafening and pointed.

 

"Jesus fine. I may have asked him out." His fingers dig into the flesh of his thigh, careful around the tender skin of the bullet scar. It doesn't really help, and there's a heat pack stashed in the back room somewhere that he's meant to use but Michael doesn't really feel like hobbling around the place trying to find wherever Castiel has 'tidied' it up to this time.

 

"Already?" Gabriel's voice is amused, and he tilts to the side as he speaks to bump his shoulder against Michael's. "Well fuck, I owe Raph money then, figured it'd take you at least a couple of weeks of testing the waters beforehand."

 

Michael grimaces, and gives up on rubbing away the ache. "Shut up, I'm not _that_ bad-" He pauses for a moment, chews slightly at his bottom lip and shoots his brother a questioning look. "What... was it too soon?"

 

Gabriel twists to shoot him an incredulous look. "Well if he didn't tell you to fuck off you're probably fine. He say yes?"

 

"Yeah..."

 

"Well there you go then. You know, it's a mystery how you survived active duty without me to hold your hand through it at all really."

 

Michael grimaces, and elbows his brother in the ribs sharply. "So sue me, they didn't exactly cover asking a cute boy out in basic training." Gabriel pouts across at him, rubbing dramatically at his ribs so Michael jabs at them again, though he keeps it playfully light this time and smirks when Gabriel can't help but grin in response.

 

"Can't really see that going down well, no." They lapse into silence after that, and after a moment Gabriel resumes drumming his heels against the counter. It's a comforting sound, something Michael associates with his brother and he relaxes into the rhythm of it. Eventually Gabriel breaks the silence again, as he shoots Michael a sly look. "So, you've got a date with Alice then."

 

"I can't believe you called him that to his face." Michael groans and drops his head back in exasperation. Gabriel snickers and twists away from the elbow Michael shoots out at him. "Tomorrow actually."

 

Gabriel's eyebrows go up at that. "Jesus I was teasing about the whole being quick thing but I may have to upgrade it to 'mocking' if this is going to be a thing with you now."

 

"Ugh, no shut up. He picked the day anyway."

 

"I take it back you're perfect for each other." Gabriel reaches out to grab Michael's wrist, twisting it until he can peer at his watch. "Ok fuck it, you want to close up early? Get you home and let Castiel fuss over your leg?" Gabriel doesn't wait for a response before hopping off the counter and making a bee-line for the door to flip the closed sign over. There's still an hour before they're meant to shut, but his leg really is aching now and the thought of getting to rest it is enough to convince Michael. They never really get customers at this time anyway.

 

Between the two of them, they set the shop to rights quickly enough, and Michael starts up the shops small dishwasher before turning to find Gabriel waiting with their coats by the door. His brother eyes him thoughtfully as Michael half limps over.

 

"You want me to grab your stick from the back?" Gabriel asks, tone carefully neutral as he hands Michael his coat. Michael pauses, internally waging a quiet war between his dislike of the walking stick and the outright pain from his leg. It's only a ten minute walk to their house from the shop, but he's fairly sure his leg won't last the trip today. After a moment he sighs and nods, unable to bring himself to _say_ yes, and awkwardly relieved when Gabriel heads back to the storage room without comment.

 

Realistically Michael knows his resentment over the stick is pointless, but it's such a potent reminder of everything he's lost over the past year that he can't help but feel it anyway. He tries not to sulk as they start home, but his mood sours more and more with each tap of the stick against the pavement.

 

"So what's the plan then?" Gabriel breaks the sour silence, and Michael actually pauses briefly in surprise.

 

"You mean tomorrow?" He bites out the words sharper than he means to, and frowns down at the stick accusingly.

 

"Yeah, been a while since you've been out on a date right? So what grand romantic plans have you got?" Gabriel keeps his eyes on the ground as he speaks, carefully placing his feet directly in front of each other. It's a trick that slows his pace enough to match Michael's slower one, and something that they've both been steadfastly refusing to acknowledge.

 

"Uh. Dinner and a movie?" Michael says.

 

"Seriously? Kicking it old school there huh grandpa?" Gabriel falters after he's spoken, and Michael catches the way his eyes flicker briefly to his walking stick with sour resentment. "Classics are good though I suppose. You sure a movie's gonna hold up against Wonderland though?"

 

Michael laughs, startled and amused. The rest of the walk goes by easier after that, and Michael stumbles into their house to the welcoming greeting of warmth and the smell of something burning. Gabriel pauses in the hallway and they share a concerned look before heading for the living room. Raphael is curled up on the sofa in a nest of blankets and textbooks, their laptop resting on the sofas armrest.  


 

"Castiel's making dinner." Raphael announces, not looking up from the book they're thumbing though. The brothers share another worried look. "I've already ordered pizza. It won't be here for an hour though, you're home early." Apparently finding what they're looking for, Raphael looks up this time, finger pressed to a page to keep their place. They frown slightly as Michael limps over to collapse on to the sofa next to them with a pained groan.  


 

"Oh good, we can use Mike's walking wounded routine to distract him when they get here." Gabriel chirps, throwing himself down into a battered armchair. It creeks alarmingly at the treatment and Michael frowns at it. He's pretty sure Gabriel's going to do that and have the damn thing collapse under him any day now and he's kind of looking forward to it truth be told.  


 

He opens his mouth to snap back at Gabriel and is instantly drowned out by the sudden scream of the fire alarm. Beside him Raphael clamps their hands over their ears automatically and Gabriel groans and wiggles around until he can bury his head in the armchairs cushions. A string of cursing floats out from the kitchen doorway, just audible over the screech of the alarm. Michael sighs.  


 

"Just pull the batteries Cas!" He yells, and then remembers the Castiel can't reach the fire alarm on his own. With a groan he makes a valiant attempt to stand again, and drops back down when his leg spasms in complaint. Michael pauses, hand pressed against the shuddering muscle and then promptly ends up with a lap full of textbook as Raphael stands up instead. He slumps back with a faintly relieved sound, and then repeats it when the alarm cuts out a moment later. From the kitchen drifts the sounds of Castiel's apologies and Raphael's grumbling. Gabriel uncurls enough to peek out from his den of cushions and a moment later Castiel scurries into the living room. The smell of burning grows stronger with his arrival and there's a smudge of something black across his cheek.  


 

"What are you making?" Michael asks to break the now deafening silence.

 

"It was spaghetti carbonara..." Castiel sounds subdued, and he glances back at the kitchen where the sound of running water and Raphael's muttering drifts from. "I helped Sam make it last weekend, I thought it'd be easy enough to do alone. Sorry."

 

From the corner of his eye Michael can see Gabriel drawing himself up to respond, so he rushes to speak before him. "Ah well, I'm sure Sam'll walk you through it again?" Michael drops his hand back to his thigh as he speaks, rubbing over the scar obviously and has to bite back the bitter smile when Castiel's attention instantly snaps to the movement. "And hey Gabe, why don't you order something in for now?"

 

Across the room Gabriel sticks his tongue out at him, but he bounces up to grab Raphael's laptop anyway and pretends to order. From the way he's grinning Michael's pretty sure he's looking up porn instead and he makes a mental note to try and clear the search history before Raphael notices. Right now though he's too busy attempting to fend off Castiel's fussing.

 

It's a losing battle from the start though, and Michael lets himself be poked and prodded back onto the sofa with only a token of resistance. Castiel always seems happiest when he's got something to focus on, and if letting his youngest sibling fuss over him will keep Castiel from sulking over the ruined dinner, well that's a small price to pay really. So he lets Castiel drag the lone foot stool over to him, and suffers through the heat pack, blanket and painkillers he's plied with. Grit's his teeth when Castiel disappears into the kitchen and returns with a mug full of hot chocolate. Raphael appears a moment later with drinks for the rest of them, and that helps Michael feel slightly less like he's being treated like an invalid. Raphael corrals Castiel onto the rooms other battered armchair with practiced ease, and spares a suspicious glare at Gabriel as he dumps their laptop back on the sofa arm.

 

The next hour passes pleasantly. Raphael curls back up next to Michael, a warm familiar weight against his side, and returns to studying. Michael pokes halfheartedly at the law book half propped against his hip until Raphael sighs and plucks it away, replacing it with a battered Dick Francis paperback from the side table.

 

As much as Michael hates being fussed over, the painkillers and heat are doing wonders to sooth the ache in his leg, and he relaxes into the comforting familiarity of his family. By the time the pizza arrives he's half asleep, and it's only Castiel dumping the hot weight of the pizza boxes across his legs that rouses him.

 

They're half way through the meal before Gabriel suddenly looks up at him, grin too bright and sharp and Michael has a moment to bask in the sense of dawning horror before his brother speaks. "Michael asked Alice out today by the way."

 

The resulting silence is pointed. Castiel actually pauses with a pizza slice hovering in front of his mouth, and after a moments pause Raphael closes their book with a faint thump. It sounds not unlike a cell door slamming shut to Michael and he steadfastly refuses to make eye contact with either of them, focusing intently on his meal instead.

 

"How'd that go then?" Raphael asks eventually.

 

"He's got a date tomorrow." Gabriel replies for him, and Michael glares down at his plate of food, chomping down viciously on his slice of pizza instead.

 

"That was fast." Castiel says, and grins at the betrayed look Michael shoots him.

 

"Well we can't blame him, it _has_ been a while after all," Raphael says, laughter in the low rumble of their voice. "How're you planning on sweeping Alice off his feet then, brother."

 

Michael sighs, shoots them all a halfhearted glare and then gives in. "Gadreel. His name's Gadreel, for the love of god stop calling him Alice it was _one_ book-"

 

"One book and you're smiiiiiiten." Gabriel sing-songs, and Castiel helpfully tosses a pillow at him before Michael can.

 

"And, the plans a movie and dinner, and no thank you I don't want your input on that choice. I don't know why you're all so bothered about this anyway, it's not like I've never been on a date before." Michael bites down on his pizza slice harder than he means too, and frowns when Raphael nudges at his hip with their foot.

 

"Michael, this is the first thing you've got even remotely enthusiastic over since you came home. We're just happy to see you happy." Raphael's voice is calmly soothing, but Michael can still hear the echo of the words they haven't said. 'Since you got hurt, since the discharge, since Dad left, since all your life plans fell apart.' The rest of his meal suddenly seems a lot less appetizing, and he drops the pizza slice back to his plate with a faint sigh.

 

It's not that he means to resent getting pulled back here so much. It's lovely having most of his family around him again, but the reasons for it rankle anyway. He'd thrived in the army, had prospects and friends, and even after the bullet shattered through his leg he'd thought the medical leave would just be temporary. Except then he'd got home, and a week later Dad had left without a word. Disappeared into thin air and finally sent them a postcard two weeks later from somewhere in South America to say he wasn't coming back. Then there'd been bills that needed paying, and the shop had to have someone to run it, because god knows Gabriel couldn't handle it on his own, and Michael wasn't about to let either Raphael or Castiel drop out of University for that. So before he'd known it, Michael found himself snowed under with responsibilities, and a lasting injury that declared him unfit for active duty.

 

Raphael's foot presses against his hip again, and Michael reaches down to squeeze their ankle gently in response. "Yeah ok, fair enough," With concentrated effort he shakes off the memories and forces himself to smile in the face of his siblings concerned looks. "Been a while since I went out for a meal here, anyone got any good recommendations?"

 


	4. Chapter 4

The theater's an eclectic mismatch of modern glass doors and the older rough stonework the rest of the towns built from, tucked carefully in between a restaurant and a bar. Michael leans against the buildings wall and peers up at the gargoyle perched above his head. It looks delightfully out of place next to the theater's neon sign and Michael's always been rather fond of it. It's also a nice distraction from the nervous rolling of his stomach. Nervously he glances around the street and then rubs his sweaty palms against his jeans in a motion that's starting to become repetitive.

 

Raphael had insisted on picking out his outfit, and had promptly frowned their way through the contents of Michael's wardrobe before disappearing to raid Castiel's instead. Michael still feels kind of awkward wearing civvies at all, and the way Castiel's borrowed clothes cling to him is enough to leave him shifting awkwardly and feeling vaguely claustrophobic.

 

He's not completely oblivious to the looks he's been getting in them though, black jeans and white dress shirt under the leather jacket Raphael dug out of the hallway closet. It smells faintly of cigarettes, and Michael's pretty sure it used to be Lucifer's. Curious he digs through the jackets inner pockets, excavates the crumpled remains of a condom packet and quickly shoves it back into the pocket awkwardly. Right, definitely Lucifer's then. Which of course is the moment he looks up to find Gadreel hovering in front of him.

 

"Oh, hi!" He just manages to keep most of the surprise from his voice.

 

"Hey," Gadreel's smile is small but warm and Michael can't help but smile back in response. "I like your friend." He glances up as he speaks and Michael follows the tilt of Gadreel's head until he's staring up at the gargoyle again. Instantly the awkwardness dissipates and he laughs softly.

 

"Yeah he's pretty misplaced up there isn't he?" When he looks down again, Gadreel's still gazing up at the gargoyle, and Michael uses the moment to take in the other man's appearance. Gadreel looks strange without the hoodie he's been buried in the other times Michael's seen him, and he seems larger, more solid somehow in the t-shirt and jacket he's wearing instead. It's a good look. It's a _very_ good look. Michael swallows, rubs his palms against his jeans again and then reaches out to grasp the theaters door.

 

"Uh, honestly I didn't think to look to see what's playing tonight. So I'm just going to put in my vote for anything that _isn't_ a war movie." He says, holding the theaters door open for Gadreel instinctively. Gadreel smiles at him, small and amused, and Michael gives a halfhearted shrug in response.

 

"Sound's fair." Gadreel says.

 

Considering it's a Sunday night, the theater is unsurprisingly busy, and Michael steers them over to a slightly quieter area while they check out the listings. There's nothing playing that particularly catches his attention, so he's quick to agree when Gadreel suggests one. It's something sci-fi, and while that's not really Michael's genre of choice, he's watched enough of them with Lucifer growing up that he's got an odd nostalgic fondness for them. Michael pays for the tickets, but gives in to Gadreel's faintly grumpy look and lets him pay for the snacks. It leaves them with just enough time to get to their seats before the previews start, which preemptively solves the issue of awkward small talk.

 

The movie's ok, fairly typical for the genre but enjoyable enough (though Michael has to focus on not flinching during the couple of battle scenes). Gadreel's a solid warmth in the seat next to him, and half way through the movie he seems to relax enough that he doesn't pull away when their legs press against each others. Towards the end he even reaches across to steal a handful of popcorn, and the movement brushes Gadreel's arm across Michael's chest, and leaves their shoulders pressed together when he's done. Michael finds himself smiling at the screen through the rest of the movie.

 

Dusk is falling when they leave the theater, and the air is crisp enough to leave a chill. After a fair amount of heated squabbling, his siblings had finally agreed on a restaurant. It's a small bistro that he's been assured does good food, but isn't too fancy for a first date (or realistically for his wallet). Castiel had been particularly enthusiastic about the place and as they're seated in a quiet corner, privately Michael has to agree with his brother's choice. It's warm and quiet, small enough to feel private but not crowded. From the way Gadreel seems to relax once they're seated the place seems to agree with him as well.

 

Distracted, Michael doesn't notice the waiter bustling over to their table, menu's in hand, until the man starts talking. "Hi, I'm Sam your waiter for the evening. Can I get you anything to drink?" For a half moment he thinks Sam isn't going to say anything, and then he turns to hand Michael the menu and awareness dawns. "Oh! Hey Michael!"

 

He's going to kill Castiel.

 

"Hi Sam." He says, tone carefully neutral.

 

Sam Winchester is a big bundle of enthusiasm at the best of times, and the blinding smile he's shooting the both of them now is one of his best. Across the table Gadreel looks on in quiet bafflement, and Michael barely resists the urge to bury his face in his hands. God save him from meddling siblings and their over-eager puppy-dog boyfriends. Sam glances between the two of them, grin turning to something horrifyingly knowing and he's actually smirking slightly when he hands Gadreel his menu.

 

"Hey so I'll leave you two to it, shall I get you some wine? We've got some really good stuff here." Sam barely waits for Michael's floundering agreement before he zips away again, and not for the first time Michael is left surprised at how fast the big guy can move when he wants to.

 

"Friend of yours?" Gadreel asks.

 

"Kind of, he's dating my brother."

 

"Oh," That does get a reaction from Gadreel, and Michael fondly watches the way his face crinkles with consideration. "Gabriel?"

 

"Nah," He says with a soft laugh. "Different brother."

 

"Oh right, you mentioned others before I think?" Gadreel sounds curious, and it's a good as topic as any to start with so Michael shrugs, leans forward to rest his elbows on the tabletop and watches as Gadreel mimics him in response. It's oddly endearing.

 

"Yeah. There's five of us in total. You know Gabe from the shop, but uh, Raphael and Castiel - he's the one Sam's dating - they both go to the Uni... And Lucifer, he lives the next town over though." Michael falters to a stop as Gadreel's eyebrows rise steadily through the explanation.

 

"I'm starting to see a naming pattern here." Gadreel says, he sounds amused though and Michael relaxes at the teasing tone. With four siblings he's more than used to being teased, and just as used to doing so back.

 

"Yeah that would be Dad's idea of a great joke-" Something snaps hot and angry in his chest at the thought and Michael swallows it down quickly. "Though hey not that you can talk _Gadreel_. You fit right in."

 

"You looked it up," Gadreel makes a strangled noise and his face colors slightly. "No one ever knows it already." Michael just grins in response, enjoying the faintly embarrassed smile Gadreel's shooting him. For some reason the name had nagged faintly at him since he'd heard it, he'd been sure he'd heard it before but unable to think of _where._ Eventually he'd borrowed Raphael's laptop to look it up, much to his sibling's amusement. He's reluctant to admit that though, so he shrugs instead.

 

"I'm admitting to nothing more than being amused by the coincidence." That actually earns him a laugh from where Gadreel's ducked down behind his menu.

 

They settle into comfortable silence, any possible awkwardness dispelled by Gadreel's small smile, and the pleasant ambiance of the bistro. Gadreel is surprisingly easy to spend time with, seemingly content to sit quietly and Michael enjoys not feeling compelled to fill the silence with small talk. It was never something he was particularly good at, even less so since the army.

 

In truth Gadreel's easy silence was one of the first things that caught Michael's attention, though how strikingly attractive he is didn't hurt. Because Gadreel is attractive, no doubt about that; it's a fact Michael couldn't help but notice the first time he'd met the man and found himself unable to keep his eyes off him. It's hard to resist doing so now too, the restaurants soft lighting flatters the strong lines of Gadreel's face, softens his jawline and highlights the curve of his cheekbones. He looks serious, eyes drawn tight as he studies the menu, lips mouthing along with the words vaguely as he reads. It's with a fair bit of reluctance that Michael turns his attention back to his own menu.

 

A moment later Sam shimmers back to the table with bottle of wine in hand and a shit eating grin plastered across his face, and it suddenly dawns on Michael that it's probably a given thing that Sam's texting Castiel their every move. He's pretty sure this counts as a set up. It must show on his face too, because Sam's straight up smirking at him now and when Michael risks a glance at Gadreel he's trying to hide his smile in the glass of wine he's just been poured. With a sigh Michael admits defeat, and takes a gulp of his own wine.

 

"You guys ready to order?" Sam is all business for the moment as he takes their orders and Michael can't help the faint sigh of relief once he's gone.

 

"Sorry," He says, noticing the puzzled look Gadreel's shooting him. "I didn't know he worked here, I'm... feeling a little bit set up."

 

For a moment Gadreel looks even more confused and then understanding dawns, "Oh! Your brother?"

 

"Yeah... the joy of siblings."

 

"I wouldn't know," Gadreel says, "I'm an only child myself. But it seems... nice?"

 

"It is. Mostly. When they're not being terrors. Our parents are out of the picture so it's just us these days, and I guess we're all a bit protective?"

 

"That a polite way to tell me to watch my back?"

 

"Nah," Michael grins into his wine glass, "Well... probably not. Why? You planning on doing something?"

 

"I can think of a few things." Gadreel murmurs, and Michael almost chokes on his mouthful of wine. It takes a moment but then Gadreel's eyes widen comically and his cheeks flush with color as he registers what he's just said. "Or, you know, just replace that with something less suggestive maybe."

 

"Well that's no fun," Michael relents a moment later though, after all the last thing he wants to do is upset his date. "So what're you studying then?" It takes him a moment to think of the change in subject, but the small smile Gadreel shoots him is well worth it.

 

The answers English Literature as it turns out, and that apparently was exactly the right thing to ask to get Gadreel to open up. His enthusiasm for his chosen subject is contagious, and Michael finds himself leaning forward as Gadreel rambles, enjoying the way the other man's face lights up as he talks, all bright eyes and gesturing hands. After that conversation comes easier, they trade off questions over their meal, Michael offers anecdotes from his tour of duty, and Gadreel responds with artfully described stories from his last bartender job. Sam wanders over a couple of times to refill their glasses, and by the time they’re finishing their desert Michael's more than a little tipsy. It's a warm flush of liquid courage that keeps him soft limbed and faintly flushed.

 

He's reluctant to call the date to a close, but eventually they're the only customers left in the little restaurant. It's getting late, and they've both got classes or work in the morning, so when Gadreel finishes relaying the story of his roommate setting off the dorm's fire alarm trying to make popcorn on their room's space heater, Michael excuses himself from the table. He wanders over to where Sam's sitting at a table in the back of the restaurant with mobile in hand, to settle the check. When he gets back to their table, Gadreel's frowning softly at him.

 

"That was sneaky."

 

"Yeah, I do that," Michael grins unrepentant, and slips his coat back on as he waits for Gadreel to stand. "Only fair though, I was the one who asked you out."

 

Gadreel nods faintly in response as he's pulling on his own coat, and he stumbles slightly against Michael's side when he stands. It's instinctive to steady him, and Gadreel is solid and warm under Michael's hand. He smells like cheap aftershave and faintly like wine, and he doesn’t pull away when Michael's hand lingers a moment longer than needed. Something warm flares in Michael's belly, and he steadfastly ignores the way Sam's grinning at them from where he's waiting by the door, in favor for the way Gadreel's smiling, small and warm.

 

When they exit the restaurant, murmuring thanks to Sam as they pass, the night air is shockingly cold against the warm flush of alcohol and instantly Michael's leg starts to ache. He's half way through shooting it a grumpy look when Gadreel presses against his side again, deliberately this time and when Michael glances over at him, he's still flushed from the wine and the cold, eyes bright as he bites at his lip.

 

"Guess I'll just have to pay next time then." It's said with forced casualness, and Michael blinks in response, and then the last of the alcohol making him impulsive he bumps back against Gadreel's side.

 

"Oh no, if that was meant to be an attempt at asking me out again, you're not getting away with it that easily. I expect to be properly wooed thank you very much."

 

Gadreel stops walking, and Michael pauses a moment later, twisting round to look back at the other man. There's a strangely intense look on Gadreel's face that he can't quite place, and he's still trying to puzzle it out, half worried he's said the wrong thing, when Gadreel steps in close and leans in to press a careful kiss against the corner of Michael's lips.

 

His mind goes blissfully blank, and he exhales a soft 'oh' of surprise before reaching out to wind his fingers into the open edge of Gadreel's jacket and pull him gently back into a proper kiss. Gadreel stiffens briefly in surprise, and then goes plaint against him. He tastes like wine and the burnt sugar from their desert. Gadreel's not a great kisser, but he's warm and enthusiastic, and nips at Michael's lips with his teeth in ways that send little shivers of pleasure down his spine.

 

Michael breaks away with a faint noise when his leg twinges sharply in protest at the sudden weight pressed against it. Gadreel's breath puffs out warm against his lips and Michael laughs softly, bumps his forehead gently against the other mans. "Ok, yeah. That works. I am successfully wooed."

 

Gadreel steps back with a laugh, and it suddenly occurs to Michael that they're still stood in the middle of the street, the restaurant not far behind them. He's never going to hear the end of it if Sam saw that. He's also finding it very hard to really care right now though, and he grins at Gadreel, enjoying the other man's rumpled look. When he starts walking again Gadreel falls in beside him.

 

"Joking aside," Gadreel says, as they pick their way down the street. "I really would like to do this again, I mean if you do too?"

 

"Yeah. I'd like that." Michael smiles, the cool night air is chasing away the last of the wines buzz but he still feels flushed. Warmed from the inside out by the faint tingling of his lips. "You've got my number right? Just let me know when you're free."

 

By the time they reach the path leading up towards the University and away from Michael's house, he's limping again. Gadreel's shooting him little concerned looks, and he's frowning ever so slightly when Michael finally comes to a halt. He doesn't ask though, and right now Michael's ridiculously glad of that, it's not something he really wants to get into when he's still riding on the pleasant warmth of their date. He goes to speak, and hesitates, unsure of how to avoid the issue.

 

He doesn't have to worry in the end, because Gadreel speaks first, "Thank you for dinner and the movie. I really enjoyed it. I should head home though, I've a class first thing in the morning," He pauses, briefly glancing down at how Michael's resting all his weight on his good leg. He still doesn't ask though and Michael could kiss him for that. "Plus I'm guessing you have an interrogation waiting for you back home." He finishes wickedly and Michael winces in response.

 

"Thanks for reminding me." He grumbles.

 

"My pleasure." Gadreel's grin is bright in the lamplight. There's an awkward beat of silence between them before Gadreel rocks back on his heels. "Ok, right. So I'll phone you later, and uh, goodnight?"

 

"Night," Michael laughs softly, "And thanks."

 

Gadreel nods and then turns to make his way down the path. For a moment as he passes it the light from the streetlamp catches off his hair, casting a golden halo of light around him, and there's something about the sight that makes Michael's chest _ache._ It fades as soon as Gadreel moves from the light and Michael's left with nothing more than the faint feeling that he's forgotten something important.

 

Michael watches until the buildings close in around him and Gadreel disappears from view. He feels weird hovering in the background like some forlorn lover, but the rest helps his leg stop aching so badly. He still ends up limping the rest of the way home, and steadfastly ignores the little voice in the back of his head (that sound suspiciously like Castiel) scolding him for not bring his walking stick.

 

The house is worryingly quiet when he gets home. It's not late enough for his siblings to be in bed, and he can't even hear the drone of the TV. His fears are confirmed when he enters the living room to find the three of them tucked onto the sofa and staring pointedly at him. There's a bowl of popcorn perched on Gabriel's lap, and the movie they'd been watching is muted. Michael glares at them hopefully and Gabriel throws a piece of popcorn at him in response.

 

"Well?" Asks Raphael.

 

Michael glares harder. Castiel reaches over to nab a handful of popcorn.

 

"You might as well give in Mikey. Cas' been getting updates all night anyway." Gabriel says around a mouthful of popcorn, and almost chokes when Raphael elbows him in admonishment. Michael sighs, and limps over to throw himself down into an armchair.

 

"I want to be mad at you over that, but mostly I'm just kind of impressed at how devious it was." He grumbles, and takes a handful of popcorn when he's offered the bowl. Raphael clears their throat pointedly, Gabriel smirks and Castiel preens.

 

And if there's one thing Michael knows, it's when to stop fighting a losing battle.

 


	5. Chapter 5

Gadreel ends up phoning earlier than he planned to. It's only a day later, and he's settled in against a tree in the campus quad between classes. It's sunny enough to keep the worst of the chill away, and he's surrounded by the remains of his lunch and trying unsuccessfully to finish his required reading before his next class. Which of course means he's looking for any excuse not to do so and he dials Michael's number purely on a whim.

 

"Hello?" Michael answers before Gadreel's common sense kicks in enough to cancel the call. There's an awkward beat of silence before he rushes to respond.

 

"Uh hi."

 

"Gadreel!" Michael's voice warms over the phone, and Gadreel presses it closer against his ear to hear better through the bustle of campus. "Well hey that was quicker than I expected." He doesn't sound at all disappointed though.

 

"Oh uh, sorry I'm not phoning because I'm free. Or well, I am but just between classes..." He trails off awkwardly. "Sorry, I should have asked of it was ok to phone to, uh-"

 

"Kill time?"

 

"Yeah... Sorry."

 

"Don't be," Michael still sounds happy enough. "I'm more than happy to chat." In the background Gadreel can hear the sudden hiss and gurgle of the coffee machine and he winces.

 

"You're not busy?"

 

"Hm? Oh nope, shops quiet right now. I'm just making Gabe a drink, nothing important."

 

"Wow, rude!" Gabriel's voice drifts softly from the background and Gadreel laughs and then promptly chokes on thin air when Gabriel continues: "Talking to your boyfriend on the job Mikey? For shame."

 

There's a flurry of motion followed by a faint thump and a yelp over the line. It takes a moment for Gadreel to process the sound past the 'boyfriend' still ringing in his head. "Did you just throw something?"

 

"Uh yes? It might have been a book." Michael answers sheepishly. "Sorry if that made you uncomfortable."

 

"The book throwing or the boyfriend bit." His voice squeaks a little on the word, but mostly Gadreel congratulates himself for managing to say it at all.

 

"Well, both I guess?" There's the sound of a door closing. "Though I meant the latter."

 

"It's ok. I mean I'm not adverse to that title?"

 

"It's... Not a bit early? After one date doesn't seem a bit high schoolish?"

 

"Would that be a bad thing?" Gadreel frowns faintly, shifts his phone closer to his ear and resists the urge to bite at his lip.

 

"No, not really. I just don't want you to feel pressured 'cause Gabe's being a brat or anything." Michael says.

 

"Not feeling pressured."

 

"Oh," There's an odd warm lilt to Michael's voice and Gadreel grins down at his feet at the sound of it. "So, boyfriend huh?"

 

Gadreel laughs, bright and giddy. "So it would seem." There's a low contented noise from over the phone call and then a pause.

 

"Oh god.” Michael says and the sound of dawning horror in his voice has Gadreel sitting up in alarm. “Please tell me my brother did not just kind of set us up. I don't think I'll survive the level of smugness that'll produce."

 

Gadreel's laughter this time is mostly down to relief. "I don't think I should be lying to you this soon in our relationship."

 

"Ok fair enough," Michael deadpans. "Can we just promise to never tell him?"

 

“Sure.” Gadreel smiles down at his lap, and flips through a few pages of his book halfheartedly. Michael clatters around in the background for a moment, and then a faint 'ah-ha!' sings out over the call.

 

“Sorry. Found Gabe's candy stash. Been trying to find where he squirreled this shit away to for weeks now.” Michael explains gleefully. “Gonna have to deduct the 'embarrassing the boyfriend' tax from it.”

 

“You're enjoying using that word aren't you?” He teases. Not that Gadreel can stop the smile Michael's use of it evokes from him either.

 

“Uh, maybe. Never really been able to use it for anyone before. Never actually had a guy willing to do the whole public dating thing with me before.” Michael sounds vaguely distracted, and Gadreel honestly has no idea how to respond to that. His silence must last a moment too long because Michael makes a sudden exclamation of realization and hastens to respond. “Shit I.... didn't mean for that to sound quite so pathetic. It's not a bad thing just, you know, joined the army at eighteen and I didn't realize I liked guys as well as girls before that and uh... can we maybe just forget I said anything?”

 

“No, but I'm willing to let it drop.”

 

“Generous of you.” Gadreel can practically hear the eye rolling over the line. “So hey, other than listening to me make a fool out of myself, what're you up to?”

 

“Mostly avoiding doing my reading for class.” Gadreel grimaces down at the book sitting accusingly in his lap and grabs for his bottle of juice instead.

 

“What're you meant to be reading then?”

 

“Bleak House.” He grumbles. “I don't usually mind Dickens' work but I can't get into this one.”

 

“Hm. Read it to me?” Michael sounds so completely nonchalant about it, that it takes Gadreel a moment to even register the question.

 

“Right now?”

 

“Yeah. You've got to read it anyway right? So think of it as a captive audience, I'll make all the 'oohs' and snide comments in the right places and everything.”

 

“I'm... not a very good reader.” Gadreel glances around himself as he replies, half vaguely worried he's drawn a crowd without noticing, and then turns a glare on his copy of 'Bleak House' instead.

 

“Neither am I. I won't judge, promise. You don't have to do it if you don't want to though. It used to help Cas get through his class reading is all.” Says Michael.

 

Gadreel stares down at the book indecisively for a moment. He really does need to get the reading done, but he's also reluctant to cut his phone call with Michael short to do so. With most people in class at the moment the quads actually pretty quiet and it really is a tempting offer. Which really, when he thinks about it that way, Gadreel's not really sure why he's hesitating.

 

“Yeah ok then. Uh, we're a couple of chapters in, you need me to summarize?”

 

“Please.”

 

“OK so there's this character Esther and she-”

 

Michael really does make 'oohs' and snide comments in all the right places, and more often than not Gadreel finds himself trying to read through his laughter. With an enthusiastic audience on the other side of the phone it's actually surprisingly easy to get into the flow of the book, and before he knows it he's finishing up the last of the assigned chapters with time to spare.

 

“-and gave my little basket of housekeeping keys such a shake that they sounded like little bells and rang me hopefully to bed.” He finishes, and reaches out for the last of his juice. “And uh, that's all I have to read actually.”

 

“Shoot, just as it was getting good too.”

 

Gadreel huffs softly with laughter and then bites at his lip. “Thank you, that actually did make it easier.”

 

“Hey I'm happy to help. Plus I got to listen to you do silly voices for everyone, that totally made it worthwhile.”

 

“I warned you I was bad at it...”

 

“ _Really_ not a complaint.” Michael's voice is warm and Gadreel smiles sheepishly down at the still open book.

 

“Ok though I have class in a bit and... I probably shouldn't have kept you so long when you're at work? Shit, sorry.”

 

“Don't be, I've been keeping an eye out and we've still been quiet. Though I should probably go find Gabriel and stop him from doing whatever ridiculous thing he's up to right now. Also to restock his candy stash before he notices I've eaten about half of it...”

 

“That... huh.”

 

“I have many regrets.” Michael sighs, “Listening to you however is not one of them. Ok though I actually can't see Gabe, I'm definitely going to have to go save him from himself. I'm really glad you rang, talk to you soon?”

 

“Oh. Yeah I, soon yes.” Gadreel can feel his cheeks heating faintly as he speaks, and he's suddenly incredibly glad that Michael can't _see_ him right now. “Bye.”

 

“Bye Gadreel.” Michael's voice is warm and Gadreel holds the phone to his ear for a long moment after he hangs up.

 

When he finally closes his phone it's to a sudden arrival throwing herself down next to him. Charlie's grinning like the cat that got the cream and possibly the canary too, and Gadreel watches the look of glee on her face with growing unease.

 

“Soooo,” She begins, completely ignoring the preemptive glare Gadreel's leveling at her. “Who was that then?”

 

Gadreel opens his mouth to respond with 'a friend' and then pauses, suddenly remembering Michael's comment from earlier. “Boyfriend.” The word still sounds kind of funny to his ears, but his stomach clenches pleasantly at the admission. Charlie blinks at him for a moment but the smile she shoots him is small and sincere.

 

“Well shit, when'd that happen? I was only gone for the weekend!” She's all grin and excited bounce next to him and Gadreel can't help but smile back at her. He shrugs self consciously and Charlie punches his arm softly in response. “Do I know them? Is he cute? Tell me everything.”

 

“Do I have to?” Gadreel wrinkles his nose at her, a little taken back at Charlie's enthusiasm.

 

“Nope,” Charlie huffs softly and slumps back to lean against the tree behind them. “but I'm hoping to live vicariously here. Not having the best of luck myself.” She looks like a kicked puppy and Gadreel's token resistance crumbles in the face of it. He pats her shoulder softly in commiseration.

 

“Um, so the coffee place you told me about a while ago?” He begins.

 

“Oh, the book one? Eden?”

 

“Yeah. He's one of the owners.”

 

“Wow. I know you said you liked their coffee but I didn't realize you liked it _that_ much.” Charlie laughs and Gadreel flicks a leaf at her in revenge. The grin she shoots back at him is wicked. “So, how _do_ you like your coffee then?”

 

“Oh my god,” he groans at the pun, covering his face in vague second-hand embarrassment. “Tall and dark apparently, and I can't believe you actually just got me to say that.” The gleeful look on his friends face is well worth it though, and Charlie bounces up next to him when Gadreel climbs to his feet.

 

“You know,” Charlie's smirking when he glances over at her, “I could really go for a coffee now you mention it. Eden's got good pastries too, think I might just go grab something actually.”

 

“No you're not.” He says, reaching down to grab his bag.

 

“Who died and made you boss?”

 

“Mostly the fact that we've got class in five minutes.”

 

“Oh, right,” Charlie frowns, “Damn I actually really do want coffee now.”

 

“Promise not to go snooping later, and I'll buy you one from the canteen.” Gadreel offers, honestly now it's been brought up he kind of wants a cup of coffee himself.

 

“You drive a hard bargain, but yes please.” Charlie says. The canteen turns out to be surprisingly crowded, so they have to make do with the vending machine coffee instead; and manage to make it to their lecture just in time with bitter coffee and scorched tongues.

 

If Charlie catches that Gadreel spends most of the lecture smiling faintly down at his copy of 'Bleak House', she's kind enough to keep any comments to herself.

 


	6. Chapter 6

Despite both of their best intentions it turns out to be frustratingly trickier to find a date when they're both free after all. Business picks up at the store just as Gabriel catches the flu and Michael's run off his feet trying to keep the shop running relatively smoothly at the same time as tending to his siblings as they all fall sick in turn. He ends up having to beg a few favors to get Lucifer to come help; and as helpful as it is having his erstwhile brother at the house, Lucifer's presence comes with its own brand of tension. It takes three days of awkward silences and bitten back accusations before they both end up in a massive screaming match over breakfast.

 

By the time he gets to work Michael's in an utterly foul mood, and he leaves the shop closed until noon, spending the morning angrily sorting through the mess of the back room. It doesn't help his mood at all, there's too much left of his father's design in the carefully balanced stacks of books and trinkets; and every minute spent in there deepens the sting of abandonment and leaves Lucifer's words ringing in his ears. The storerooms half empty and there's piles and boxes of books sprawled out across the shop front when Michael's stomach growls its need for a break.

 

It's with a sinking realization that he realizes he'd left his lunch on the kitchen counter when he'd stormed out that morning. He'd tossed most of the food from the shops small cafe after Gabriel had got sick and hasn't had a chance to restock it yet. For a moment Michael considers heading back to the house to grab his lunch, but he's not worked through his anger yet and the last thing he wants is to get into another fight with his brother so soon. Part of him is sort of worried he'll get back to find Lucifer gone, that he's driven his brother away again so soon after getting him back. It's a mixture of common sense and cowardice that has him grabbing his walking stick and heading for the nearest sandwich place instead.

 

Other than a couple of texts he's not heard from Gadreel since their phone call a week ago, the other man being busy with studying and finals himself. So when he gets back to the shop it's more than a little surprising to find Gadreel hovering outside Eden's front door. Michael falters slightly at the sight, walking stick cracking sharply against the paving stone when he brings it down too hard and Gadreel's head jerks around to stare at him. For a second he has the ridiculous urge to hide the stick, then Gadreel smiles at him and Michael shoves the urge down enough to smile back.

 

"I thought you might be closed." Gadreel says when Michael gets to him, close up he looks exhausted, eyes heavy with shadows. He doesn't seem at all taken back by the sight of the stick though, and something relaxes in Michael's chest at the realization.

 

"We kind of are actually," Michael replies, unlocking the shop door as he speaks and ushering Gadreel inside. "I'm sort of doing an impromptu stock taking."

 

"I'm sorry, I was going to call and see if it was ok for me to visit, but I ran out of credit and my roommates phone died so I couldn't borrow his and uh," Gadreel has to pause to catch his breath, looking flustered. "Sorry I just wanted to see you. I can go though, if I'll be in the way?"

 

"No you're welcome to stay, I could use the company to be honest. You don't need to study though?" He drops the paper bag with his lunch down on the counter, and slips behind it to tuck his walking stick away in its usual spot.

 

Gadreel smiles sheepishly at the question, and gives the bag across his shoulder an indicating bounce. "Actually yeah, I brought my stuff with me. Would it be ok for me to study here?" The idea of company actually sounds lovely to Michael and he feels his bad mood lessen in response.

 

"Sure. Why don't you clean off a table for yourself and I'll make us both something to drink?" He waves a hand in the direction of the shops seating area, and the mess of boxes and books across it. "Have you eaten?"

 

He hasn't and from the vaguely confused way Gadreel admits that Michael has a suspicion he's not been eating properly at all. He brings them both coffee and can't help but smile at the way Gadreel's eyes light up at the sight of it. He's not sure what it is about the coffee that Gadreel seems to love so much, it's pretty standard fare to his knowledge, but he's not going to complain about the results. Once they're settled he passes Gadreel half of his sandwich and watches the way he wolfs it down with faintly amused contentment.

 

Between the food and company the anger that's been burning through Michael all morning finally starts to dampen down. Unfortunately that just makes more room for the guilt and nervousness to eat at him. He tries to ignore them, focusing on keeping the casual conversation between Gadreel and himself light and pleasant. He's pretty sure he's doing a terrible job of it though, so when Gadreel places his coffee cup down with a click and a faintly concerned frown it doesn't really surprise him.

 

"You ok?"

 

"Yeah sorry," Michael places his own cup down so he can rub a hand across his face, "Just a rough morning."

 

There's a beat of silence while Gadreel continues to frown slightly into his coffee cup and then; "Want to talk about it?"

 

"I-" he's ready to deny it outright, but that's not really true so instead Michael smiles self deprecatingly and shrugs. "I don't want to bother you if you need to be working."

 

"You wouldn't be, and I'm fairly sure it's part of the whole dating deal that I provide a sympathetic ear to vent to?" There's a stubborn set to Gadreel's jaw that Michael recognizes and he hesitates for a moment longer before nodding.

 

“Yeah ok, it's family drama though, you sure you want in on this mess?” He can't help but offer one last out anyway, and the last of his anger fizzles away when Gadreel only nods firmly. Michael's still not sure what it is about Gadreel exactly that seems to set him automatically at ease, but right now he's really not complaining.

 

“My brother Lucifer's staying at the house helping out while everyone's sick. I think I told you he lives out of town before?” Gadreel nods faintly, “When we were kids he used to get into a lot of fights with our dad, nothing major they just clashed a lot. Anyway he hit nineteen and moved out. Left a note on the fridge and we didn't hear from him for a month. He got back in contact properly a couple of months ago, and I guess we've been rebuilding bridges since? It's great to have him back but I think I'm too much like dad so we argue a lot. There's uh, issues.” He's not ready to explain that mess of details to Gadreel just yet though, so Michael waves it off with a flip of his hand instead. “Been arguing since he got here, and things kind of came to a head this morning. Just you know, family drama.”

 

Gadreel hums in response, and frowns slightly down at his hands as they fiddle with his coffee cup. He's pinning it with such a serious gaze that Michael has to smile. The moment draws out until it's just starting to get awkward and then Gadreel sighs heavily and looks up at Micheal. “I'm trying to think of something profound to say, but I've got nothing. Sorry.” He rubs at his eyes tiredly.

 

"Don't worry about it, honestly just talking helped." He considers his own empty coffee cup for a moment before coming to a decision. "Ok though I'm going to make some more coffee and then get back to work. You want some?" He's pretty sure what Gadreel really needs is a proper meal and a good sleep but for now sandwiches and coffee are all he has to offer. Oh, and the jar of biscotti on the counter.

 

It takes him an hour to finish tidying up the back room and shop floor. Unsurprisingly he works a lot faster when he's not throwing things around the place in a temper. Gadreel settles himself into a table in the corner, and it quickly disappears under the army of his study books and laptop. Michael was never the best when it came to studying, and it's kind of impressive watching Gadreel work his way through it, very much in his element. Back room as tidy as its ever going to be, Michael drops a small pile of individually wrapped biscotti down in front of Gadreel in passing, and then opens the shop properly.

 

The rest of the day passes quietly enough, customers come and go and through it all Gadreel studies quietly in his corner. When, an hour before closing, Gadreel starts to nod off over his books Michael helps him pack his stuff and ushers him out the door and with gentle demands that Gadreel "Go home and sleep." He gets a sleepy kiss against his cheek in passing when Gadreel leaves and the warmth that blooms in Michael's chest at that simple affection follows him the whole walk home.

 

It becomes routine after that, Gadreel arrives around noon with his bag stuffed full of supplies and spends the rest of the afternoon curled into the table he's claimed. Michael's amused to realize it's the same one Gadreel had sat at when they first met. After the second day of splitting his lunch Michael picks up an extra sandwich when he grabs his, and the next day Gadreel arrives with a bag full of pastries from a bakery near the University. Michael's still run ragged trying to deal with the shop on his own (though to his relief since their fight things have actually been easier with Lucifer at home) but Gadreel's quiet company helps pass the work day pleasantly.

 

He half expects Gadreel's daily visits to stop once finals are over, and once Gabriel's well enough to come back to work, but he keeps coming. The small mountain of work books shrinks down to the odd reading book and occasionally Gadreel's laptop, and he spends as much time studying as he does talking with Michael. He brings a box of salt water taffy his mother sent with him one day, and instantly endears himself to Gabriel forever.

 

Not that he really needed the help. Michael's siblings all seem completely taken with Gadreel. Gabriel making an event of relaying whatever 'adorable' interactions they'd had during the day to the rest of the family. Michael bears the brunt of it with the sullen patience of the eldest sibling, and mostly manages to ignore their teasing. In truth he's too content to really let a bit of sibling ribbing bother him. Besides he gets his own back by stealing kisses from Gadreel every chance he gets, enjoying Gabriel's complaints almost as much as he enjoys the kisses themselves.

 

When Gadreel turns up one day, with a bag of what turns out to be baklava (Michael had mentioned getting a taste for the sweet snack from his tour of duty in passing, and he's both thrilled and surprised that Gadreel remembered) and a grinning redhead in tow, something settles and clicks over in Michael's mind. It feels like he's found something he's been missing, and as he watches Gadreel stiltedly handle introductions while fending off Gabriel from the box of baklava with practiced ease, the empty hole in his chest he's been carrying around since the bullet tore through his leg starts to fill in.

 


	7. Chapter 7

The text message arrives in the middle of his lecture, no one ever really texts him so the sudden vibration from his pocket takes Gadreel by surprise. Fortunately he only flinches a little bit, not enough to draw the attention of anyone except the classmate he's sat next to. Charlie gives him a distracted smile and then goes back to taking notes, her red hair falling across her face like a curtain between them. Gadreel fishes his phone out of his pocket surreptitiously before it can buzz again. He should be paying attention, but his curiosity is piqued, so he opens the message instead. It's from Michael, and just the sight of his name fills Gadreel with a peculiar mixture of excitement and nervousness.

 

_Any chance you're free tonight?_

 

Gadreel reads the text, blinks, and reads it again. It's still just as delightfully cryptic. He types back a quick response, still trying to pay attention to the lecture at the same time.

 

_i should be. why?_

 

It takes a little while before he gets a reply, and this time he manages not to jump as his phone buzzes.

 

_No pressure, but we've sort of ended up with an impromptu gathering at the house. Smallish thing but it'd be lovely if you could come?_

 

Gadreel's still blinking blankly at the text message, when the phone buzzes again in his hand. It's from Michael again.

 

_Also I've been told to tell you that there will be free food. Siren's call for students apparently?_

 

That breaks the tension instantly, and Gadreel has to bite his tongue to hold back a bark of laughter. Still he hesitates before responding, an evening with Michael sounds awesome, and free food is always good (siren call indeed), but the gathering part of it makes him vaguely nervous. Particularly so since he's pretty sure that means Michael's siblings, and that idea is more than a little bit intimidating. His phone vibrates again while he's waffling.

 

_Ok last one because really no pressure, but if it helps Cas is bringing Sam. I think Raf is bringing a friend too?_

 

Which actually does kind of help, and Gadreel nods his head firmly at his phone and ignores the soft huff of amusement from next to him.

 

_yeah ok sounds good. when/where?_

 

_Eden closes at six. If that's good for you, I can meet you there?_

 

_ok. i should prob pay attention to class now tho._

 

_Oh shit, sorry! You do that. Study hard and see you later._

 

Gadreel smiles sappily at the last message, and then slips his phone back into his hoodie pocket. Now that he's paying attention to the lecture again he realizes he's completely lost, but he's barely finished grimacing before Charlie slides the last page of her notes over to him. There's a little 'd'aww' with a heart drawn around it at the very bottom of the pages margin, and Gadreel rolls his eyes at her in response.

 

By the time six o'clock rolls around Gadreel's an anxious mess. His roommate had dealt with the most of it, lent him a nice button down shirt when Gadreel had realized all of his were dirty and played an hour of computer games with him to kill time. At five thirty though Abner had tossed him out the room with instructions to get a coffee from the canteen and to "Have a good time for fucks sake".

 

In the end he's a little early, and Michael's still busy fixing stuff up around the shop. He beams when Gadreel wanders in, and a bit of the nervous twisting in Gadreel's stomach fades. He's herded to what he's rapidly started to think of as 'his' table, and Michael wanders over with a cup of coffee and a small handful of foil wrapped cookies.

 

"Gotta hold with tradition right? Sorry I'm running a bit late, I've just got to clear up a couple of things and then we'll be good to go."

 

Gadreel nods, and settles in to watch Michael wander around the shop and enjoy his coffee, though two in half an hour is way more caffeine than he's used to. Michael's coffee is still as perfect as he remembers it though, and the flood of memories - new and old - that come with the taste are enough to sooth over the worst of his nerves. He helps Michael tidy up the last of the days mess from the display counter, and revels in the pleased thanks he gets in return.

 

When Michael disappears briefly into the shops back room and reemerges with his walking stick in hand Gadreel has to bite back his smile. It's hard to resist though, with the way his stomach tightens at what he's rapidly recognizing to be a show of trust for Michael. It's amazingly flattering but he's pretty certain Michael wouldn't appreciate him grinning like a dork at the stick. At all.

 

The walk to Michael's house is pleasant enough, it winds its way up though some of the older and more scenic areas of the town, but it leaves Gadreel's stomach churning with nerves once more. Still he manages to keep up his side of the conversation for the most part, though from the knowing smile Michael keeps shooting him he's pretty sure he's not fooling anyone. The door they stop at is painted a dark green, which clashes terribly with the red brick of the rest of the house. There's a little terracotta angel perched across the doors mantle cradling the plaque for the houses number 42 sign. The face Michael pulls when he notices Gadreel looking at it is priceless.

 

"It's hideous I know. Just try not to make eye contact." Michael says in a long suffering tone, and then smirks at Gadreel's answering laugh. Michael has the front door open and half escorts, half pushes Gadreel into the hallway before he's stopped laughing. It's surprisingly effective at easing the nervous clench of Gadreel's stomach; but then Michael's pretty good at defusing situations he's noticed, though whether that comes from his military career or being the eldest sibling of five Gadreel's not sure. Probably both.

 

The hallway is, thankfully, empty but the sound of conversation drifts down it. Gadreel drags in a deep breath, takes strength in the hand Michael presses gently against the small of his back and then steps forward. The hallway leads into a small but neat kitchen, and Michael guides him through it and out the backdoor that leads to the garden.

 

The garden's larger than Gadreel expected, the borders stuffed with a vibrant wash of colors and the smell of honeysuckle hangs heavy in the air. There's a couple of benches hugging the ivy covered wall at the end of the garden, and a small pond tucked into the far corner. The place is instantly soothing, and a tranquil peace smothers the worst of Gadreel's nerves. The kitchen door leads right onto a paved patio, with a well-worn garden table and a collection of mismatched chairs. Currently there's an ice box settled next to it, and a battered looking barbecue taking up the rest of the space.

 

"Hey Mike where the hell do you keep the charcoal now?" Yells out a man with his back to them as he digs through the contents of the tiny shed settled into the corner of the garden. Michael sighs and rolls his eyes at Gadreel.

 

"Sorry I'll be right back once I've dealt with this." With one last pat to the small of Gadreel's back, Michael heads over, already grumbling at his sibling as he walks.

 

The man's tall when he straightens to meet him, with hard eyes and short blond hair; and the sight of him crashes into Gadreel like punch. His head spins under a wave of intense hatred and terror. It's enough to freeze the air in his lungs, has his hands clenching into fists automatically and leaves the taste of copper on the back of his tongue. He can feel the blood draining from his face even as rage powers his limbs and he's a moment from moving when a hand comes to rest softly against his shoulder.

 

"Hey Gadreel right? You ok?" Sam asks, face creased with concern and like a crash all the emotion drains out of Gadreel leaving him pale and shaky as he blinks blankly up at Sam.

 

"Yeah, yeah I..." He's not sure what to say and after a moment Sam helps guide him to a bench at the far end of the garden. He leaves briefly and returns with a can of soda, it's blissfully cold in Gadreel's hands, surface still beaded with condensation and he drinks gratefully.

 

"You looked kinda overwhelmed there. Which I can totally get, they're... An event the first time you meet them all aren't they?"

 

Now he's sat with the coldness from his drink biting into the skin of his palms, Gadreel doesn't understand his reaction at all. He _knows_ there was a reason for his anger but trying to remember why is like trying to peer through deep waters as it sinks deeper and deeper away from him. Eventually he has to give up, the thought isn't coming back to him, and trying to force it is just giving him the start of a headache. He places his drink to the side to rub at his face, and the transferred coolness wipes away the last of the dazing clinging to him. He shoots the still concerned looking Sam a small smile.

 

"Yeah sorry. I'm all good now. Thanks."

 

"No problem. We're pretty out numbered here, gotta stick together."

 

Gadreel nods solemnly and is more than a little relieved when Sam's responding laugh wipes the last of the concern from his face. Gadreel takes a gulp of his drink and watches Gabriel and another man set the table.

 

"Should we be helping?" He asks, and Sam shakes his head no beside him.

 

"From past experience we'll just get shooed away if we try."

 

"Oh." Gadreel trails off into silence, He's still vaguely embarrassed and confused over his earlier reaction and while Sam seems a nice enough guy he's not really sure what to talk about with him. Somehow 'so how about those siblings we're dating' doesn't seem a good conversation topic.

 

"Ok," Sam declares, sitting up straighter and studying their hosts in a way that reminds Gadreel strikingly of the way his neighbors cat would hunt birds. "Obviously you know Michael, you met anyone else before?"

 

"Uh, Gabriel."

 

"Ok, that's Cas helping him set the table and the guy arguing with Michael is-"

 

"Lucifer." Gadreel's not sure how he knows that with such certainty or why the name leaves such a bitter taste on his tongue.

 

"Yeah." Sam sounds vaguely puzzled and Gadreel shrugs at him.

 

"Michael's mentioned him before." Which seems as good an explanation as any to Gadreel, Michael _has_ talked about him before, and it's not that hard for his brain to have figured it out from context clues before him.

 

"Ah. Right ok, so that leaves Raphael, who'd be the one walking over to us right now. Hey Raph." Sam sketches a quick wave at the person walking over to them.

 

"Hey yourself." Raphael responds with an easy smile, and then turns a searching look on Gadreel. He manages not to squirm under the intense gaze and after a moment Raphael smiles, a look that's a little bit too knowing for Gadreel's comfort, and then offers their hand. "Raphael."

 

Gadreel has to fumble with his can of soda, setting it back down and trying to surreptitiously wipe the worst of the moisture clinging to his hand off on his pants before he can shake the offered hand. Through it all Raphael grins, bright and knowing but without any real malice.

 

"Michael's being stubborn when it comes to talking about you," Raphael says, straight to the point as they consider the little space left on the bench between Gadreel and Sam, and then, with a shrug, slide down gracefully to sit on the grass in front of them instead. "You go to King James too right? Sam and I are both doing the law program there, what are you in?"

 

There's genuine interest in Raphael's questions, and while the attentions a little daunting, it's nice to know Michael's enthusiasm seems to run in the family. It does kind of feel like an interview though. He's halfway through commiserating with Sam over the state of the dorm showers, when Gabriel throws himself down to the grass next to Gadreel with a cheerful exclamation of "Alice!". Raphael promptly kicks him in the shin and in the midst of the ensuing squabbling, Castiel settles himself down next to Sam and murmurs his greetings.

 

Gadreel's starting to feel overwhelmed again, though everyone's pleasant enough to stop him from really starting to panic once more. Still he's more than a little relieved when Michael finally wanders over to them. He hopes it doesn't show on his face, though from the fond look Michael's giving him he thinks it might be.

 

"Alright guys, foods done." Michael announces, and offers a hand to help Gadreel to his feet.

 

Dinner is a noisy affair. Gadreel finds himself sat between Michael and Castiel in a velvet covered dining chair that he's fairly certain is probably an antique. Castiel proves to be pleasant company, seemingly content to make small talk but not bombarding Gadreel with questions, and between him and Michael, Gadreel rather enjoys himself. By the end of the meal he's feeling comfortable enough to snark back at Gabriel, and through it all Michael is a warm, steady presence at his side. Their knees press against each other under the table, and more than once Michael's hand comes to rest against the small of his back in a half possessive, half comforting touch that leaves Gadreel squirming internally.

 

As dusk starts to fall, and the meal comes to a close most of the group ends up wandering into the house. Gadreel lingers outside with Michael to help clear the table. In the growing darkness the smell of honeysuckle mingles with the sugary sweetness of their dessert, and when Michael wraps his arms around Gadreel's waist from behind, memory stirs vaguely in the back of his mind. It's vague and wisp like, and when Gadreel reaches for it, the thought scatters from him.

 

"Thank you. For coming I mean." Michael's chest rumbles as he speaks, and Gadreel presses back against the vibration, suddenly struck by the very real need to kiss him. Which really, there's nothing stopping him, so he twists easily in Michael's hold to press a kiss to his lips. Michael kisses back enthusiastically, and he tastes like caramel cake and fries. It's a terrible combination really, but his hand is pressed against the small of Gadreel's back again, the other curled loosely against his jaw, thumb tracing the beat of his pulse and it's enough to leave Gadreel breathless, heat curling in the pit of his stomach. His hands slide to Michael's hips, fingers playing at the hem of his tshirt and-

 

"Hey Mike, that the last of - oh for gods sake!"

 

Michael breaks from their kiss with a sharp bark of laughter, and drops his head to Gadreel's shoulder, still laughing. Behind him Lucifer stands in the kitchen doorway, hands covering his eyes and muttering darkly under his breath. Gadreel would be more intimidated, but the way the corners of Lucifer's lips are twitching in response to his brothers laughter rather ruins the image.

 

"Jeez, I thought Gabriel was exaggerating about the pda's. Thanks Mike gonna have to spend the night bleaching my eyes. Very kind of you." Lucifer grumbles. Michael huffs in response, sudden wash of hot breath across his neck that makes Gadreel shiver, and flips his brother off.

 

Gadreel privately decides they're both as bad as each other, and slips out of Michael's hold to grab the last of the stuff from the table and heads inside. The sound of their grumbling follows him into the little kitchen, and he's starting to get the idea that they both just _enjoy_ arguing at this point. He's just dumped the plates by the sink, when Gabriel sticks his head in from the hallway, glances briefly out into the garden and then with a shake of his head turns his attention on Gadreel instead.

 

"Yeah they're gonna be at that for a while. We're gonna put a movie on, you wanna come join us?" Gabriel asks as he digs around in a cupboard and emerges with a bag of fun-sized chocolate bars. True to form Gabriel doesn't wait for a response, and with a shrug and a last glance out the kitchen door Gadreel trails after him.

 

The movie turns out to be a rom-com, which from the pointedly smug look Gabriel shoots him he gets the feeling is meant to be a hint. Gadreel rolls his eyes, and accepts the candy bar Gabriel offers him a moment later and takes it as the truce he's pretty sure it is. Twenty minutes into the movie, and just as the main character nosedives into his designated romantic interests lunch, Michael joins them, settling in between Gadreel and Gabriel and smelling faintly of dish soap. He's warm where he's pressed up against Gadreel's side, and Gadreel presses into the touch as subtly as he can, smiling when Michael hand curls into his own.

 

By the time the movies almost over, Gadreel's in real need of the bathroom, and he slips away with Michael's murmured directions and his skin buzzing from the prolonged close contact. Michael's not in the living room when he gets back, and when he checks the kitchen there's only Lucifer grabbing a drink from the fridge. He straightens when he sees Gadreel. For a moment the light from the fridge casts him in a cold glow and Gadreel's earlier unease around the man comes back with a vengeance.

 

"Oh hey, Mike's outside if you're looking for him." Lucifer says, and the air of unease disperses just as suddenly as it came over him. Gadreel nods his thanks, and he's just about to head out into the garden again when Lucifer speaks again. "Uh, look sorry if I upset you at all earlier. I wasn't really bothered just giving Mike grief." He looks chagrined when Gadreel turns to look at him again.

 

"You didn't, don't worry about it." Gadreel says.

 

"Oh good," Lucifer actually does look relieved, and then his expression twists awkwardly. "I uh, haven't really been around much until recently but even then it's pretty obvious you're really good for him. Mike he - it's good to see him happy." He frowns heavily by the end of it, fiddles with the can of beer he's holding, then nods sharply and reaches out to clap Gadreel on the shoulder.

 

Gadreel's not really sure what to say to that, so he smiles vaguely instead and nods back at Lucifer. For a moment they both hover awkwardly and then Lucifer laughs, runs a hand through the short spikes of his hair.

 

"Right, anyway, it's nice to have met you Gadreel. I'll leave you to it."

 

"You too." Gadreel replies, and makes his way out into the dark garden once Lucifer leaves. There's small glow lights dotted around the boundaries of the garden, and when he steps out the kitchen door the motion lights over the patio flicker on. Michael's stood by the small pond and his head snaps up jerkily when Gadreel walks over to him. For a moment his body is all tight, aggressive lines and then he relaxes.

 

"Hey, sorry didn't mean to run off on you. Needed some fresh air." Michael says, reaching out for his hand once Gadreel gets close. Now it's dark the garden is cold enough that Gadreel's happy to slide in close against Michael's side for more than one reason.

 

They fall easily into their usual comfortable silence, broken only by the soft splashes of the ponds fish. As pleasant as the evening's been, Gadreel can't help but enjoy the quiet peace of this moment best. They stay like that for a while until Michael starts shifting painfully and they head back to the garden table so he can rest his leg. They're still sat there, chatting softly, when Castiel wanders out to join them.

 

"Hey Cas, where's Sam?" Michael asks.

 

"He left a while back. We both have classes in the morning," Castiel tilts his head as he speaks, "Raphael's making tea, would you like some?" When they both voice their agreement he heads back inside and returns a couple of minutes later with two steaming cups.

 

"Thank you." Gadreel murmurs, wrapping his cold fingers around the cups heat gratefully.

 

The tea is sweet and hot, and Castiel joins them with his own mug. They talk for a while as they drink, the conversation shifting comfortably to the University once more. Castiel's studying pre-med and Gadreel winces sympathetically at his schedule. Eventually Castiel stands again, wishes them both a good night and heads to bed.

 

"Oh crap, sorry I didn't realize how late it was," Michael says, glancing at his watch with a wince and Gadreel checks his own to find it's a quarter to midnight and grimaces in turn. "Er, you have class in the morning?"

 

"I'm free until four tomorrow. Why?"

 

Michael shifts awkwardly in the soft light from the patio, "Well just, I mean if you're ok with it, you're welcome to stay here tonight?"

 

"Oh." Gadreel's suddenly really glad for the dimness of the patio lights, though he doesn't think they managed to hide the way his face heats anyway.

 

"Not that, I mean, I can sleep on the sofa."

 

"You don't have to." His stomach rolls pleasantly as he speaks, and the look Michael gives him a moment later only adds to the heat building there.

 

It's mostly quiet when they slip back into the kitchen, the faint noise of a tv show drifts from the living room but otherwise the house is cast in sleepy silence. He follows Michael up the stairs and into his bedroom with nervous excitement building in his stomach. Gadreel's expecting Michael's room to be something simple, but to his surprise everything is antique looking, full of rich reds and browns. Not what he was expecting, but it's oddly fitting and definitely welcoming.

 

Despite the arousal building in Gadreel, there's no real sense of urgency about them. Michael lends him a night shirt and shoos him into the small en-suite bathroom, even digging a new toothbrush out from under the sink for him. It feel's pleasantly relaxed, in a way that only makes the heat pooling in Gadreel's stomach burn brighter.

 

The shirts a little bit too tight on him, clings faintly to his torso and rides up over the waistband of his boxers uncomfortably, so after a bit of hesitation he strips it back off again. When he steps out of the bathroom Michael doesn't even bother to hide the fact that he's staring, and the look has Gadreel's breath catching in his chest.

 

Michael pulls him in for a kiss, and he tastes like toothpaste this time. Sweet and minty with the bitter aftertaste of his mouthwash. He pulls back too soon for Gadreel, and presses his forehead against Gadreel's instead.

 

"Hey uh, we don't have to do anything but sleep if you want."

 

"It's fine, I'm good." Gadreel shakes his head quickly, and presses himself up against Michael pointedly, smiling when Michael groans softly in response. Hands settle firmly against his hips, thumbs tracing the skin just above the waistband of his boxers and Gadreel leans in to claim another kiss.

 

Without breaking the kiss Michael leads them slowly backwards to the bed. While he's doing so Gadreel focuses on getting Michael out of his shirt, suddenly finding it incredibly unfair that his boyfriend's still fully dressed. They have to stop kissing to get the shirt over his head, and Gadreel can't help the sound of appreciation that breaks from his throat at the sight. Michael laughs, startled and giddy, and then grabs Gadreel's hand to tug him down onto the bed with him.

 

They land in a tangled mess, which sets them both off laughing again as they squirm into a better position. With a bit of manoeuvring Gadreel manages to settle on his knees above Michael, only to have Michael knock him off balance a moment later. He sits down with a thump on Michael's hips and earns himself a startled moan in response. He can feel Michael's hardness pressed against the curve of his ass and the sensation has his own cock hardening. Michael's eyes darken, his face flushed with arousal, and his hips rock up against Gadreel jerkily. It's ridiculously hot.

 

Michael's making these little high pitched noises of arousal in the back of his throat and Gadreel has to kiss him in response, licks his tongue into Michael's mouth as if he can taste the sounds and is rewarded with Michael groaning deep and heartfelt. His hands skitter to Gadreel's hips, gripping vice like as Michael drags him down to rock his own hips against Gadreel's again.

 

"Can we get these off?" Gadreel asks, tugging lightly at the waistband of Michael's jeans. For a moment Michael looks panicked and then his face firms out with resolve and he nods jerkily. Gadreel frowns. "We don't have to if you're not comfortable?"

 

"No it's fine. I'm being silly but it's good." He presses up into Gadreel's hold in emphasis. Michael moans softly when Gadreel pops the button on his jeans, and he takes that as a sign that it really is ok to continue.

 

Michael still goes slightly tense when he's finally stripped from the jeans though, and Gadreel freezes in response, alarmed that he's pushed too far. Which turns out to be the wrong thing to do completely, as Michael starts to curl in on himself, hand moving to hover over his thigh nervously.

 

"Sorry. It's not exactly a nice sight." It takes a moment for the words to register, and then they do at the same time he notices Michael's trying to cover the scar on his leg.

 

The scar's still the red raised flesh of a recent wound, it looks painful and Gadreel has to fight back the urge to wince in sympathy, fairly certain it'd go down badly right now. Instead he reaches down to grasp Michael's hand and gently tugs it away. Cautiously he traces the line of the scar with his other hand, and when Michael only twitches slightly in response he strokes over the puckered flesh more firmly. The bullet wound isn't exactly attractive, but it's also not the hideous sight Michael seems to think it is. Curious Gadreel slides his hand around to the back of Michael's thigh and finds the exit wound there. The scars larger on this side, more raised under his fingers and it's both fascinating and daunting.

 

Michael's hand tightens its grip on his own and Gadreel glances up at him, takes in the look on his face, both vulnerable and resigned and feels his chest tighten at the sight. Still watching Michael's face as best he can he drops his head to press a kiss against the scar. Michael jumps in response, a startled moan breaking from deep in his chest, and the sound echoes in Gadreel's head, urges him on to press another kiss to it, this time open mouthed. Michael keens, thigh twitching under Gadreel's hand and mouth and the sound sends a hot spike of heat to his cock.

 

Michael reaches down to grab Gadreel's shoulder, fingers digging into his flesh before he drags him up into a hungry kiss. Their hands roam freely and Gadreel shudders when Michael strokes down his stomach to tug questioningly on the waistband of his boxers. He nods and rocks his hips down against Michael in response, mouth too busy tracing the curve of Michael's neck to speak.

 

The calm that washes over him once they're both naked is sudden but welcome. It seems to take over Michael too, as he slides easily from clutching at Gadreel to stroking. His hand sweeps down the length of Gadreel's back soothingly and then slides in between their bellies to curl around the length of Gadreel's erection. Gadreel's hips jerk instinctively into the touch, a low groan vibrating through his chest and Michael echoes the sound a moment later when Gadreel reaches down to wrap his own hand around Michael's cock.

 

They rock together, slow and steady, soft little sounds of pleasure trickling from their lips in-between kisses. Michael's free hand strokes up and down Gadreel's back, and Gadreel's own clutches at Michael's hip. Michael's erection is hard and wet with pre-cum under his hand as Gadreel tries his best to match the steady pace of Michael's hand on his own hardness.

 

It's in no way a rushed affair, but neither of them last very long anyway. Gadreel presses close before he comes, mouth finding Michael's desperately in an attempt to stifle the sounds he's making and whines, low and trembling, into the kiss when he releases. Michael only lasts a moment longer, cock throbbing under Gadreel's hand as he comes. His teeth sink into Gadreel's lower lip as he shudders through his orgasm and Gadreel groans lowly in response, pawing clumsily at Michael's shoulder with his free hand.

 

Michael slumps back with a soft groan afterwards, and lets out a grunt of air when Gadreel half collapses down onto his chest. Gadreel's panting softly, body still shivering from his orgasm and he smiles into Michael's neck when his boyfriend reaches up to wrap his arms around his waist. They stay cuddled like that for a while as they catch their breath, until eventually Michael wiggles out from under him and slips into the bathroom.

 

With his back turned, Gadreel's finally able to make out the pair of stylised wings tattooed across the length of Michael's back. It's both perfectly fitting and ridiculously cheesy and Gadreel can't help but grin at the sight. When Michael returns with a damp facecloth, Gadreel musters enough energy to steal a soft kiss as the cloth swipes across his belly, raising a heavy arm to trace the thick black line of one wing.

 

When he yawns wide enough to make his jaw crack, Michael laughs, a low tired sounding thing, and shuffles them both under the beds soft covers. Gadreel instantly curls into Michael's embrace once they're settled, humming happily and burying his face in the crook of Michael's neck. Michael wraps his arms back around him, and presses a soft kiss to the top of his head. It's sappy, and leaves Gadreel grinning sleepily anyway.

 

* * *

 

(whee bonus tattoo reference thing - full version on my tumblr [here](http://hellhounds4sale.tumblr.com/post/118739242219/also-this-thing-cause-i-wanted-to-practice))


	8. Chapter 8

_This isn't right._

 

_The desert stretches out before him, a sea of ever shifting sand and scrub, and the sun is bright overhead. Too bright. Brighter than he ever remembers it being, until Michael has to squint his eyes closed against the sharp burn of it. There's nothing but rolling sand and brightness as far as he can see. His fatigues are clean and crisp with starch like they were his first day of boot-camp and they feel strange and out of place against his skin now. Too real, and yet not real enough._

 

_He turns in a shuffling circle, boots sinking into the soft sand and squints into the distance, searching for any landmark in sight. There’s a tree, far enough away to be half lost in the shimmer of mirage water. It's large and gnarled, low sweeping branches crowded with bright green leaves and completely wrong. It should not be here. It should not be at all._

 

_The tree's branches sway in a breeze that Michael can't feel against his own skin, and his feet start forward automatically._

 

_Sand shifts and tumbles under his boots, and the sun beats down, burning bright against his skin even as all he feels is cold, cold, cold. The tree wavers in the distance, and the sight of it makes his eyes ache. His gun feels heavy in his hand. Too heavy. When he looks down at it, the image of it shimmers and shines like a mirage and for a moment it's a sword instead. Long and heavy, gleaming silver in the bright light. There's script along the length of it, flowing archaic letters that hurt his head to look at. Michael screws his eyes up tight against the pain and when he opens them again it's to the familiar shape of his gun._

 

_He keeps moving forward, and the changes keep happening. Sand rolls over the top of his boots and then for a moment he's walking barefooted, and the sand is hot and soft and sharp as glass against his skin. He stumbles in surprise and regains his footing to find his boots heavy on his feet once more. His fatigues blur into supple leather and fur briefly, and then later into the drape of white cloth. His back feels heavy, like he's carrying something but when he reaches up with a hand to check there's nothing there. And through it all the tree grows larger and larger before him, a green oasis in miles and miles of sand and light. It feels like it takes him hours, days, before he finally reaches it, but the sun is still bright and burning high above him._

 

_He slips under the shade of the tree's branches with a sigh of relief. They stretch out above his head, a canopy of green leaves and flickering light. The bark of the tree's trunk is cool when he reaches out to touch it, and it feels so good against the palm of his hands that Michael can't help but press himself full bodied up against it. It smells like home. Like burnt pasta, and butter popcorn and the sweet citrus notes of Raphael's perfume. It smells like fresh coffee and old books and caramel toffee. Like Gadreel's aftershave and cheap red wine._

 

_When he reaches up towards one of the tree's apples, hanging heavy and red from the branch above his head, it burns to his touch and he jerks his hand back, stung. There's a faint sound from the other side of the tree, like laughter and a sob all at once and Michael follows it, palms still pressed to the soothing roughness of the trees bark._

 

_There's a man sat curled up under the tree, his head buried in his arms. He's wearing armor that gleams in silvers and gold and a robe of soft flowing white stained brown and red around the trailing edges. The sight of him fills Michael with anger sharp and bright and bitter, and sadness deeper than he's ever felt before. It's worse than the night his mother died, worse than being shot and watching the doctors hem and haw over the shattered mess of his leg. It catches in his chest like fire, makes his head spin with the intensity of it. He gasps through clenched teeth, hands clenched into fists so tightly his nails bite into the flesh of his palms._

 

“ _Why.” He doesn't mean to say it. Doesn't even think the word before it's snapping from his lips, an angry snarl of a sound. It makes his stomach roll._

 

_The man shifts at the sound of his voice, lifts his head and Michael's breath catches in his throat, heart slamming hard against his ribcage. Gadreel stares up at him, face twisted up with distress and Michael trembles in response, rage and grief swamping him. Wrong, this is wrong. His back feels so heavy._

 

_He doesn't feel like himself any more. It's not right, his head spins and his limbs are heavy, and it's like drowning. Gadreel's still staring at him, eyes sad and solemn, and Michael closes his eyes tight against the sight._

 

_His eyes open of their own accord, and the swords back in his hand, wickedly sharp and glittering in the diffused light that trickles through the trees branches. The sight of it makes his blood run cold. He feels different. Ancient. Powerful. And he knows without being able to see it that he's not wearing his fatigues any more, his armor sitting heavily across his shoulders. The tree's no longer alone in a desert either, lush rolling green surrounds them but the air is disconcertingly devoid of any sound of life. His body takes a step closer to Gadreel unbidden, and another until he's looming over the other man._

 

“ _I asked you a question.” The words aren't his, but his mouth says them all the same, voice tight with his anger. Gadreel doesn't respond, just stares up at him like a puppet with its strings cut. It's such a wrong sight, for all his calm silences Gadreel never sits so lifeless and to see him so still, so defeated, makes Michael's heart ache. He tries to swallow down the uneasy rolling of his stomach and can't._

 

“ _Answer me!” His shout is half rage, half sob and he swings out a fist to punch the trunk of the tree as he yells. His fist hits bare stone. His knuckles come away unbroken and un-torn and Michael's head spins with the wrongness of it all. The little cell he's stood in is dark and gloomy, and Gadreel's curled up on the stone platform that takes up half of it. Michael stands, chest heaving through his anger, desperate for some kind of response._

 

_Nothing comes. The silence in the little cell is deafening. Gadreel's gaze is resigned and resentful and something inside Michael goes taut and then snaps at the sight of it. His sword is a bright brand against his skin, sending little zaps of fire up his arm. He starts to raise the blade and watches Gadreel's eyes flicker to watch the movement. He looks relieved, and Michael's stomach heaves in response. He drops the sword like it's a snake, watches it twist back into the familiar shape of his gun as it hits the floor, feels the stone under his feet shift back to sand as he stumbles backwards. His back hits the bars of the cell, and something heavy and gray wraps around him._

 

Michael jerks awake tangled up in his sheets on the bedroom floor. He struggles free from it, heart still racing; then looks up to find Gadreel peering sleepily down at him from the edge of the bed, face pulled halfway into a worried frown and Michael's stomach lurches. He only just makes it to the bathroom before he throws up.

 

The dream – _nightmare_ – is already fading from his mind but he still feels sick from the vague memory of it. His skin is cold and clammy to the touch and he feels feverish and horrified but he's not really sure why. He jumps in surprise when a hand presses between his shoulder blades and rubs softly. Gadreel's warm against his side, a silent source of comfort and Michael suddenly really needs to hear him speak. He takes a deep shaky breath and croaks out a soft “Sorry.”

 

Gadreel's hand pauses briefly in the circles it's tracing against Michael's back. “Nothing to be sorry about. You ok?”

 

“Yeah.” He still feels queasy, but Michael learned to tell the difference between nausea and 'about to hurl' a long time ago, so he pulls back from the toilet and accepts the hand Gadreel offers to help him back to his feet. He's still kind of shaky so he staggers over to the sink instead and takes a moment to rinse his mouth out. Gadreel hovers awkwardly behind him, obviously unsure if his assistance is needed or wanted, and to Michael's surprise he doesn't find the concern stifling like he usually would. After a moment he pushes away from the sink and forces himself to stand up straight and smile faintly at Gadreel. “Sorry, bad dream.”

 

“I noticed.” Gadreel's smile is small and teasing but the sight of it almost makes Michael sag in relief. “It's-” He pauses, twisting his wrist around to peer at his watch, “still pretty early. Want to try sleep again?” He has to stifle a yawn on the last word, and Michael laughs softly.

 

“Sleep is good.” He takes a moment to brush his teeth before following Gadreel back to his bedroom. Now that it's been mentioned he's tired in a bone deep way, and the muscles in his back ache like he's strained them. Gadreel's already re-made the bed when he gets there and Michael slips back under the covers with a grateful noise.

 

After a moment's hesitation he reaches out to curl up against Gadreel again, suddenly in need of the reassurance, and smiles softly when Gadreel instantly presses in close. His hand traces small circles on Michael's hip and it's that soothing movement that finally sends Michael into dreamless sleep.

 


	9. Chapter 9

Michael wakes to late morning sunshine in his eyes, and Gadreel curled warm and heavy half across his chest. He can't actually remember the last time he woke up with someone still in his bed, and he'd forgotten just how much he liked it. Gadreel stirs against him, makes a low content noise from deep in his chest and Michael can't resist pressing a sleepy kiss to his forehead in response. Gadreel's hair smells like apple shampoo, and for a moment the memory of his dream swims to the surface again. It fades quickly, but Michael still finds himself pulling Gadreel in closer protectively. The movement wakes Gadreel, and he makes a sleepy, inquisitive noise before curling a hand around Michael's waist to return the hug.

 

“Mornin'” Gadreel mumbles, and cranes his neck until he can smile up at Michael.

 

It's almost instinctive to lean forward to kiss him, and Gadreel hums contentedly against his lips. They stay curled together, trading sleepy kisses for a while, until Michael's bladder insists on being acknowledged.

 

He grabs a quick shower after he's done, and rolls his eyes at Gadreel's playful whistle when he returns to the bedroom in nothing but a towel. It's tempting to re-join his boyfriend in bed, but Michael's pretty sure if he does then they're not getting out of it again, so instead he digs out his clothes for the day and after a bit of hunting finds a shirt that he thinks might fit Gadreel. He makes the mistake of stepping in closer to hand it to him, and it takes a whole nother round of kisses before he manages to extract himself again, and usher Gadreel into the bathroom.

 

Gadreel doesn't need to head back to the campus for a while yet, so while he grabs a shower, Michael heads downstairs to start the coffee machine. As he's hovering in front of it waiting for it to heat inspiration strikes, and by the time Gadreel arrives downstairs Michael's halfway through making pancakes. It is, he has to admit to himself, a little bit clichéd, and from the startled laugh the sight draws from Gadreel he's not the only one to think that.

 

"What? Pancakes are always good-" Michael half turns from the stove to grumble, and jerks to a halt at the sight of Gadreel. His hair's still damp and the flush of the hot water still clings to his skin, but it's the sight of the shirt he's borrowed from Michael that leaves him kind of breathless.

 

Gadreel's larger than him, and the shirt clings and defines in a way that's hidden by the hoodies he usually wears. It's more than a little bit distracting, and Micheal really wants to kiss him again. Which honestly, he's starting to feel like a teenager again but there's something about Gadreel that makes him feel like he hasn't seen him in months. He's also, not exactly sure what's stopping him from indulging.

 

When he reaches out to tug Gadreel close by his shirt, he comes gladly. Michael's not used to tasting his own toothpaste in someone else's mouth, but he thinks it's something he could easily get used to.

 

It's the smell of burning that has Michael finally jerking back from the kiss, and he just manages to get the ex-pancake out of the pan before they set the fire alarm off. He banishes Gadreel to the kitchen table with a cup of coffee, and virtuously ignores the other man's snickering while he finishes cooking. When he sets Gadreel's plate in front of him, he's tugged down into a quick kiss that ends with Gadreel's murmured thanks against his lips. Michael practically skitters to the other side of the table, grumbling faintly at his wayward boyfriend.

 

They're halfway through the meal when Gadreel pauses with his fork halfway to his mouth and grimaces.

 

"You ok?" Michael asks, faintly alarmed.

 

Gadreel glances down at his shirt and grimaces again. "I just realized my room-mates going to know I didn't come home last night. Which means Charlie will know. Which means I may have to move to Canada."

 

"That bad huh?" He just manages to keep the 'I'm' from his response, but Gadreel's head still snaps up to frown at him anyway.

 

"No. Not bad at all." The frown's transferred down at the tabletop between them, "Sorry, I phrased that badly. I'm not ashamed, of you or spending the night or of being gay in general. I just, I know neither of them will mean anything by it if they give me shit over staying, but it's just leftover high school panic I guess? I got used to people meaning this stuff maliciously so now even when I know it isn't, it still kinda makes me nervous."

 

Michael's silent for a while, pushing the remnants of his breakfast around his plate as he thinks. "I can sort of get that, not so much the high school, I was very into ignoring the half of me that liked other guys back then. But hey army boy over here, god knows I understand the panic over people knowing." With a sigh he pushes his plate away, appetite gone. Across the table Gadreel nods in agreement and then wrinkles his nose.

 

"This is a terrible conversation to be having right now." Gadreel says and when he looks up his eyes are intense in a way that reminds Michael of -honeysuckle and grass under his feet- the look on his face the first time they kissed. Gadreel takes a deep breath, obviously prepping for something and unconsciously Michael draws himself to attention in response. “So look I have to head home for my mother's birthday this week, but uh the University is hosting this big firework show on the beach next weekend. I was wondering if you'd like to come with me maybe?"

 

The abrupt change in topic leaves Michael faltering for a moment. Part of him expected something far worse than being asked out on a date and for a moment he's just confused by the theatrics until he remembers that, oh, this is the first time _Gadreel's_ suggested a date.

 

"Yeah," he's pretty sure he sounds ridiculously sappy right now, "I'd love that."

 

Gadreel smiles brightly at him and Michael grins back at him over the rim of his coffee cup. The rest of the meal goes much easier after that, and Gadreel helps him with the washing up again. It's strangely domestic, and when Michael accidentally flicks soap bubbles at Gadreel it results up in all out war that only ends when they're both dizzy with laughter and there's more water across the kitchen floor than in the sink.

 

After cleaning up that mess, it's late enough that Gadreel needs to head back to campus. Michael resists the urge to kiss him again, and succeeds in doing so all the way up until the front door. By the time the door finally closes behind Gadreel, Michael's lips are tingling and his chest feels tight and heavy with a mismatch of emotions.

 

With nothing else really to do, and used to keeping himself busy Michael heads over to the shop for the rest of the evening. Gabriel greets him with a shit eating grin and a wiggle of his eyebrows. Michael's in too much of a good mood to really care, though on principle he still drags Gabriel into sorting the bookshelves as punishment.

 

The rest of the day goes past quietly and when he's climbing into bed that evening his phone buzzes from the bedside table. Michael settles himself under the covers before opening the text message, smiling automatically when Gadreel's name pops up as the sender.

 

_goodnight <3_

 

Something catches, hot and tight, in his chest when he reads it and Michael grins his way through typing out his response. His pillow still smells faintly of Gadreel's shampoo and he curls into it and falls asleep to the faint scent of apples, hand curled tightly around his phone.

 

If he dreams, he doesn't remember them.

 


	10. Chapter 10

Being home is weird; Gadreel feels out of place and awkward in his childhood bedroom. It's not that he's changed that much since starting University, he still likes the bands in the posters covering the walls, and the books overflowing from his bookcase are still the same treasured stories he's always loved, but something feels odd about it all. Maybe it's the thin layer of dust that covers everything, or the smell of mothballs and stale air. Slumped across his bed, with the familiar sound of the neighbor's kids yelling drifting in through his open window, Gadreel tries to ignore the creeping sense of unease.

 

Part of him wonders if he's just missing Michael and his friends. He's got used to having them near to talk to at whim, and it's strange not being able to do so. Not that he regrets coming home, it's lovely to have a chance to see his Mother again and he's been really enjoying spending time with her. Although he does half regret letting her talk him into helping to sort out the attic, he's exhausted from the work. Only half though, she'd promised to make him brownies to bring back with him, and he's weirdly excited about sharing them with Michael.

 

The water heater kicks on, and the deep rumbling gurgle of it sends a wash of comforting lethargy over Gadreel. It's still early in the day, and he knows he should really get up and head downstairs to see if his Mother wants a hand making dinner, but his limbs are heavy with fatigue and surely it wouldn't hurt to stay where he is for just a little while longer.

 

The neighbors kids laugh and shriek, and the boiler rumbles away and Gadreel's eyes slide slowly closed.

 

_The Garden is bright with life around him, the trilling call of birds and the soft susurrus of leaves moving in the breeze. Gadreel traces his previous path through the thick underbrush, sword heavy at his hip as he makes his round of the Garden. He reaches the massive oak tree just before the Eastern Gate and pauses there for a break._

 

_While he's watching a blackbird digging through the leaves at the base of the oak, strong arms curl about his midriff from behind him. Gadreel doesn't panic, there's only a few Angels whose presence he wouldn't sense beforehand, and even fewer who'd willingly touch him like this. So with a low hum of contentment he leans back into the strong chest behind him, flattening his wings between them._

 

_Michael laughs, soft and easy, and his lips press gently against the back of Gadreel's neck before he lets go. Stepping forward to stand next to the other Angel and watch the small bird turn to look at them both reproachfully at the intrusion._

 

_They don't speak, they never need to and there's something about the noise of Life in the Garden that discourages breaking it. Instead Michael brushes his wings against Gadreel's in greeting, and once the blackbird, still disgruntled at their interruption of it's foraging, flutters away into the under brush Michael falls silently into step with him when Gadreel turns continues his rounds._

 

_They walk together with practiced ease, content to silently enjoy each other's company while they can. Soon Michael will have to leave, The Archangel far too busy to linger long from his duties but for now he reaches out to intertwine his fingers with Gadreel's, and flicks out a smaller wing to brush a stray leaf from Gadreel's shoulder._

 

_Gadreel has to reluctantly let go of his hand when they reach the Eastern Gate so he can check the ornate locks are still closed tight. Once he's finished checking, he steps back and turns to find Michael watching him with a small frown creasing his brow. Gadreel shifts, instinctively uneasy at the idea of having displeased The Archangel, and his wings flare out slightly in apology. Michael shakes his head in response, brow smoothing out as he smiles, and the sight sends little trickles of adoration through Gadreel's chest._

 

_Michael moves faster than Gadreel could ever hope to track, and then he's enfolded in a sea of gray as Michael wraps his wings around him. It's a move that never fails to leave him dizzy and lightheaded with the honor of it all, and his own wings tremble with pride when Michael leans in to kiss him, soft and sweet. The air is heavy with the smell of honeysuckle, and Michael's wings press heavy against his shoulders as-_

 

He wakes to his Mother gently shaking his shoulder and for a moment Gadreel's filled with such a sense of crippling loss that he can't breathe through it. It fades the next moment, and he rubs the sleep from his eyes clumsily, stifling a yawn.

 

"Sorry to wake you hun, you look exhausted. Dinners ready though, why don't you come eat and then you can head to bed if you like?" His Mother pats softly at his shoulder as she speaks and Gadreel nods in agreement.

 

She's made lasagna the way Gadreel likes it, with far too much cheese sauce and a layer of butternut squash. Conversation over the table is pleasantly familiar, as his mother catches him up on the latest local gossip and drama from their extended family. The food's as amazing as Gadreel remembers it, and he wolfs down his plate and smiles sheepishly when his Mother stands to refill it without having to ask. He's missed this, missed her and her cooking, and the sounds of their house in the evening.

 

He yawns his way through helping with the dishes, and once they're done his Mother ushers him to bed with a soft kiss to his cheek and a wave of her hands. The opening theme of her nightly show plays before Gadreel's half way up the stairs, and he grins humming along with the last bars of the tune.

 

Of course once he actually collapses back onto his bed, sleep turns out to be frustratingly elusive. Little flashes of bits and pieces of his dream keep playing in his head, and Gadreel's not sure why they feel so _real_ to him. He's not really surprised that his brain decided to associate Michael with Angels, after all it's hardly a great leap to be making, but it's still kind of embarrassing to be having _dreams_ about it.

 

Though of course now he's thinking about it he can't seem to get the thought out of his head. Michael had looked amazing with wings, almost like they belonged on him, and the memory of the weight of them pressed against Gadreel's shoulders is enough to leave him squirming faintly. He suddenly really wants to hear Michael's voice, and he doesn't stop to think about what he's doing as he grabs his phone off the bedside table and presses call.

 

"Hello?" Michael's voice is slightly tinny over the connection, but it's enough to send another little spike of heat to Gadreel's gut, and he's suddenly swept up fully in the memory of his dream and the bright feeling of adoration that had filled him through it all.

 

"Hey." He sounds odd to his own ears, kind of rough and strained, and the realization makes him flush brightly.

 

"Gadreel," Warmth radiates down the phone line and Gadreel smiles up at the ceiling of his bedroom. "Hey, hows it going? I - what? - oh, Cas says hi."

 

Gadreel laughs, and rolls onto his side, phone cradled against his ear. "Hi back at him, and it's going good. Nice to be home, though, uh, I miss you." His voice tails down softly by the end. He feels silly admitting it, it's only been a couple of days since he last saw Michael after all.

 

"Miss you too. The shops not the same without you to make coffee for these days.” Michael teases, and Gadreel grins into his phone and squirms. Awkwardly he tries to swallow down the arousal building in his gut, Michael hasn't even said anything that should be encouraging it but he can't get the memory of the dream out of his head and Michael's voice in his ear is just making it worse.

 

“Miss your coffee too.” He croaks out, he means it to be joking in turn but his voice catches on the words.

 

“Hey you ok? Sound like you're coming down with something.” Michael's concern only makes him feel even more like a jerk. He should hang up, but that just seems even ruder. Gadreel closes his eyes tight and tries to think every un-sexy thought he can. It doesn't help.

 

“No, no I'm fine.” He manages to keep his words even this time.

 

“Might just be the line. So what are you up to?”

 

_Trying not to think about you naked, and tracing the lines of the wings on your back with my tongue._ “Uh, nothing really. Just in bed. I can't sleep and I was thinking of you-” He clamps his jaw shut with a click, explanation edging too close to the full truth for his comfort.

 

“Good thoughts I hope.” Michael _purrs_ and Gadreel flinches, letting out a startled moan on accident. He claps a hand over his mouth and freezes. There's silence down the line for a couple of seconds and Gadreel honestly just considers apologizing and hanging up.

 

"Oh!” Michael finally says, and he sounds surprised but not angry. “Oh, hold on." There's the sound of movement over the line, and then a door closing followed a moment later the creak of a bed, and heat washes to Gadreel groin. "Still there?"

 

"Yeah."

 

“So, thinking _really good_ thoughts about me huh?” Michael's voice has dropped back into the purr that's sending warm pulses of arousal through Gadreel's body.

 

“Sorry.” He croaks out, face hot with embarrassment.

 

“Nothing to be sorry about. I don't mind at all.” His boyfriend sounds practically sinful over the phone, and Gadreel bites back a groan in response, and rolls onto his side so he can press his legs together tightly. Now he has permission it's hard to focus on anything but his rapidly growing erection, so it takes him a moment to register it when Michael speaks again. "You want to play a game?"

 

"Um?"

 

"It's simple, all you gotta do is what I tell you to." Michael says and this time Gadreel does groan heavily in response, his hips jerking hungrily. "Yeah, thought you might like that. Tell me what you're doing." Michael's voice is still sinfully playful but there's enough bite to the command that Gadreel's left panting before he can collect himself enough to reply.

 

"Nothing yet, I'm just in bed."

 

"You haven't touched yourself?"

 

"No." He doesn't think it's possible for his face to get hotter, but it does anyway.

 

Michael hums thoughtfully. "Ok then I want you to do so."

 

The order hits him hard like a punch to the gut, his breath rushes out of him in response. “Y-yeah, ok.” He rolls onto his back again, rests his hand on his stomach and presses there for a moment as he tries to calm down slightly. Michael makes a soft hungry noise and Gadreel jumps at the sound of it, breath hitching as he slips his hand down to press against his erection through the outside of his boxers.

 

“Gadreel,” Michael says, voice rough around the edges, “Keep touching yourself, and talk to me.”

 

“About what?” Obediently he traces down the length of his cock and whimpers.

 

Michael curses, soft and breathless. "Anything you want."

 

"Ok." Gadreel squeezes his eyes closed, imagines Michael hovering above him instead and then grins, mischief getting the better of him. "`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves-"

 

"Christ! Yeah ok smart ass I'll make you pay for that later." Michael's grumbling is rather ruined by the laughter lacing his voice, and Gadreel laughs, the tension easing in his stomach. Then Michael's tone goes serious, a low rumbling purr that goes right to Gadreel's cock. "Tell me what you're _doing_."

 

Gadreel swallows dryly and licks at his lips before replying. "Um, I'm just stroking myself through my boxers."

 

"Take them off for me would you." Despite the phrasing it's not a request and Gadreel shudders hard and then almost drops his phone in his mad scramble to obey. He kicks his boxers off, and then slumps back against his bed, erection twitching in the cool air of his bedroom. "Ok, now stroke yourself again but I want you to do it just slightly harder than you like."

 

Gadreel hisses as he does so, the extra pressure makes it so he has to actively think about what he's doing, keeps him from losing himself in the pleasure, and at the same time it makes his own touch feel foreign. It's so easy to imagine Michael touching him like this and he has to bite into his lower lip hard to keep the noises he's making from getting too loud.

 

"Fuck, that's it. You sound so good Gadreel. Come on sweetheart tell me how it feels."

 

"Like you're touching me, like I could open my eyes and you'd be here. Feels so good Michael, pl-please can I... more?" He's beyond being embarrassed at his words now, cock leaking over his hand on every up stroke and his stomach feels molten with his arousal. Michael groans brokenly in response, and Gadreel can just make out the rustling of clothes over the line.

 

"No." Michael orders, and Gadreel lets out a wordless keen in confusion. "Hands off, and I want you to roll onto your stomach." It's got to be one of the hardest things Gadreel's ever done, but he does as ordered, practically tearing his hand away from his cock. He whimpers, hears Michael hiss in response and then rolls himself over. His hips hit the mattress and he can't help but press himself against it, moaning softly into the phone.

 

"Good boy," There's that purr again, and Gadreel's starting to think he could come from just the sound of Michael's voice like that all on it's own. "Spread your legs for me now, and raise your hips up."

 

He does so. The position leaves him feeling exposed and open, but the angle of his hips lessens the pressure on his erection and he whines at the loss. When he thrust his hips experimentally, the motion drags the length of his cock along the bed sheets and he chokes out a little startled noise that has Michael groaning.

 

"You're so noisy Gadreel," He admonishes, tone low and playful. "Shall I help you with that? Put your fingers in your mouth for me, let me hear you get them wet." Gadreel's a little bit nervous about where this is going, but he does as told, pressing his index and middle fingers into his mouth and sucking. It's such an obscene noise that he feels his face heating in response, and he sucks harder, adding a third finger and focuses on the little gasps and pants coming from Michael.

 

"That's it, keep sucking on them for me. Now you've got something to keep you quiet, why don't you try fucking your mattress again."

 

Gadreel gasps wetly into the phone, bites down on the fingers filling his mouth and thrusts against the sheets as commanded. He feels dizzy with the need to come, mind full of images of Michael above him, hands vice like on his hips, holding Gadreel still as he slides into him. Imagines being held down and fucked into, Michael's lips on the back of his neck, his fingers in Gadreel's mouth, that purring voice whispering commands and praise into his ear, the weight of his wings pressed down on Gadreel's shoulders and -

 

Gadreel's world narrows down to white as he comes to the sound of Michael's gasps over the phone line. His teeth sink hard into the flesh of his fingers, hips rubbing frantically against his mattress and little gasping cries catching in his throat with the power of his orgasm. Michael groans once, low and heavy like he's been struck and then there's only panting over the line from both of them for a while.

 

Eventually Gadreel drags up enough energy to roll onto his side and away from the wet patch. He glares grumpily at it for a moment, a bit put out that he's going to have to deal with it on his own. Though he's finding it hard to really mind all that much at the moment.

 

"You alright?" Michael asks at last, voice still breathy in a way that sends pleasant little aftershocks of pleasure down Gadreel's spine. "Sorry, I got a bit carried away there." He doesn't actually _sound_ sorry though. In fact he sounds distinctly like that cat that's had the cream _and_ the canary.

 

"I'm not complaining." Gadreel finally manages, lifting an arm to drape over his eyes and grinning up at the ceiling of his bedroom. "So, got a thing for bossing people around huh? Can't imagine that wasn't ever awkward on the job." It earns him a laugh.

 

"Nah, I just like putting smart asses in their place apparently." There's something half like a threat, half like a promise in Michael's tone, and Gadreel swallows hard, suddenly feeling breathless once more. This is very much not a kink he'd known he had, but damn if he isn't complaining about this discovery.

 

"I'll hold you to that." He hears himself say before he's even registered the words, and he shudders at the low almost growling sound his words provoke.

 

"It's a date the-" Michael's cut off by the sudden massive yawn that overcomes Gadreel.

 

"Shit, sorry."

 

"Nah, it's fine. Probably a good sign it's time I let you sleep anyway. I'm pretty tired myself now. Night Gadreel, sleep well."

 

"Goodnight Michael... and uh, thank you." He stumbles awkwardly over the last bit and Michael laughs softly.

 

"My pleasure. Literally. Now go to sleep, and I'll see you soon."

 

Gadreel clicks his phone closed obediently, and then grins into his pillow when he realizes what he's just done. Still if he phones back now, neither of them will ever get back to sleep, and he really is exhausted. He eyes the wet spot on his sheets for a moment, decides it can be dealt with in the morning, and rolls over to bury himself in his blankets. As he drifts off to sleep, his last thought is that the way the blankets lie heavy across his back, kind of remind him of the pressure of wings pressing down against him.

 


	11. Chapter 11

The beach pebbles shift and give under Gadreel's feet when he steps onto them, and he casts a concerned look over at Michael when the other man curses softly under his breath. He's frowning slightly and when Michael reaches down to rub briefly over the bullet scar on his thigh, Gadreel reaches out to grip his elbow with what he hopes is casualness. For a second Michael goes very still at his touch, but then he relaxes, shooting Gadreel a half embarrassed, half thankful look.

 

“Gadreel! Hey over here!” A familiar voice yells out, and he turns to find Charlie waving at them from the blanket she's sat on. She's sat with Abner, and a girl he recognizes from class but can't quite remember the name of, Dorothy maybe? He waves back anyway, and then picks his way carefully over the loose stone to them and tries not to be too obvious about the careful eye he's keeping on Michael.

 

The group greets them warmly and Gadreel flops down next to Abner, leaving the space next to Charlie open for Michael. Abner elbows him playfully in the side, and then leans across Gadreel to introduce himself pointedly. Michael instantly endears himself to the whole group, not that Gadreel had been expecting him to do anything else.

 

The place is a lot more crowded than he expected it to be this early, but then there's free food and music, and under the saltwater breeze Gadreel can just make out the smell of alcohol. He reaches down to lace his fingers with Michael's and smiles at the startled grin the other man shoots his way. Gadreel's not really one for public displays of affection, but there's something so utterly satisfying about the shocked but pleased way Michael always reacts to it. Like he's still surprised to have a partner acknowledge him in public, and thrilled to have it happen. With a payout like that it's not exactly a hardship to endure.

 

The foods the standard cheap and quick quality he's come to expect from his school. It's enjoyable enough but privately Gadreel can't help but compare it to Michael's cooking and find it lacking. There's plenty of it though, and he's already stuffed when Charlie pulls out a bag of marshmallows and tosses them all a stick. They all troop obediently towards the nearest bonfire, and spend the next half hour seeing who can keep their marshmallow above the fire longest before it falls off. Michael wins, and steadfastly refuses to tell them his secret. He shares his perfectly blackened marshmallows with Gadreel though and earns himself a sticky kiss on the cheek.

 

They retreat back to their blanket as it starts to get dark, hands and faces slightly scorched from the fires heat. The rest of the group throw themselves down on it, groaning theatrically about overly full stomachs and Gadreel's about to join them when Michael stops him by grabbing his arm.

 

“I kind of need to stretch my legs a bit and cool down, you want to catch a walk with me before the fireworks start?” Michael asks, nodding towards the nearest large concrete slab that makes up the beaches sea barrier. The thought of cooling down sounds wonderful to Gadreel so he nods in agreement.

 

They have to head back up the beach to reach a point where they can scramble up onto the sea barrier without too much difficulty though Gadreel still has to offer a hand to Michael to help pull him up. Once they're up the sea breeze is wonderfully cooling, perhaps a bit too much actually but it's still easily bearable. They pick their way carefully down the length of the barrier, until the sound of the crowd is mostly covered by the whistle of the wind and the crash of waves all around them. Gadreel wanders over to the edge of the barrier, peering down carefully into the white froth of the waves, and wonders vaguely if the sea will warm up enough to be ok to swim in come summer.

 

“Be careful.” Michael calls, sounding concerned. Gadreel twists around to look back at him and is instantly captured by the sight. Michael's silhouetted against the light from the distant bonfire in such a way that he seems to glow. Gadreel blinks and for a second the image of Michael in his dream overlays itself over him, another blink and it's gone but Gadreel's still left frozen from it, breath caught in his chest at the strength of the image and the wash of foreign emotion that comes with it.

 

There's a sudden burst of noise and light above them and he startles, jerking back and just as he realizes it's the fireworks starting his foot hits something slippery and goes out from under him. He has a second to catch Michael's face twisting up with concern and then Gadreel's falling, falling until he hits the water hard. It cold, bitterly so. The water closes over his head disorientingly and he's still going down, down. His head cracks hard against something, and Gadreel yelps, a sudden burst of bubbles, and sea water rushes into his mouth as his vision dims to black.

 

* * *

 

Michael watches Gadreel topple backwards with shocked horror, his head misses the edge of the sea barrier by inches and then he disappears from view. For one heart rending second Michael's frozen, limbs locked with shock and then the night sky lights up with another flurry of fireworks and his training kicks in.

 

He yells for help, more from instinct than any hope that someone will respond, everyone's too far away to hear him over the near constant noise of the fireworks now. Michael scrambles to the edge of the sea barrier and peers down, half hoping to see Gadreel splashing about. There's nothing, just the tremble and crash of the waves lit up in flashes red and yellow. There! A flash of a darker shape in the water and the next burst of fireworks lights it up enough for Michael to make out an arm. His heart lurches and though he knows it's the wrong thing to do he leaps. He hits the water feet first and tumbles down into its shockingly cold embrace.

 

The salt water burns at his eyes but he forces them open and twists in the water to reorient himself. He has to turn himself around completely twice, cursing his idiocy the whole time, until finally, he catches sight of Gadreel again.

 

He's limp when Michael wraps an arm around his chest, heaves his head above the waves to rest on Michael's shoulder, and Michael's heart skips in terror because Gadreel's not moving and he can't hear if he's breathing over the crash of the waves and the boom of the fireworks above him and - then Gadreel shudders, arms twitching feebly against Michael's and relief crushes through him.

 

In his dawdling the current has pushed them out further and Michael curses in his head, doesn't have the breath to waste on doing it out loud, and starts dragging them both back to shore. Half way there Gadreel seems to come out of his daze and makes weak motions to help, it doesn't really do anything but Michael's still relieved to see the movement anyway. He half supports, half drags Gadreel up the beach, and collapses into the surf with him.

 

"Gadreel! Hey, look at me. You ok?" His voice is strained from exertion and he has to yell to be heard over the fireworks. Gadreel slumps against his shoulder and nods, wincing a moment later and murmuring something too soft to hear. Michael leans in close just in time to catch the last of it.

 

"-hit my head but it doesn't really hurt." Gadreel's voice sounds wet and Michael wracks his brain for his first aid training and finds that, in his panic all the hard earned knowledge is slipping away from him.

 

Gadreel's breathing though, and talking coherently, and he can tell how many fingers Michael's holding up. He's shivering hard though, they both are in fact. After a moments thought Michael helps him to stand, gets Gadreel to stagger just far enough up the beach that he's not sat in the water any longer and then, reluctantly, risks leaving him alone long enough to dash up the beach to the blanket they'd been sitting on.

 

The rest of the group have dispersed to watch the fireworks but Abner's still sat there. He glances up in surprise when Michael stumbles over, eyes widening in alarm at the frenzied state of him.

 

"Shit you fall in?" He asks, clambering to his feet when Michael reaches for the blanket.

 

"Gadreel hit his head, think I need to get him looked at properly." Michael's gathers the blanket up into his arms as he speaks, voice still creaky. He doesn't wait for a reply, already heading back to where he left Gadreel. Abner falls quietly into step behind him, and Michael's glad for how calm the other man seems, last thing he needs is more people panicking and getting in the way.

 

Between them they manage to wrap a feebly protesting Gadreel up in the blanket and get him down to the promenade. Under the light of a street lamp Michael does his best to check Gadreel's pupils, they don't seem to be dilating wrong but it's hard to tell with what light he has. A thought occurs to him and he digs his phone out of his pocket, cursing at its thoroughly soaked state. It's well and truly dead and he has a moment of complete panic before the phone's plucked from his hand and another is shoved back in its place. He spares a moment to shoot Abner a smile in thanks, even as he uses the slightly better light from it to check Gadreel's eyes again.

 

Satisfied that his boyfriend isn't going to keel over on him just yet, Michael gets them moving towards the row of taxis at the end of the promenade, suddenly ridiculously glad for the seaside bars and restaurants that keep the area busy this late at night. They get Gadreel bundled into the taxi, and Michael pauses briefly before getting in himself to pass Abner's phone back to him.

 

"No keep it just in case, Gadreel can get it back to me. Actually hold on," Abner digs his wallet out of his pocket and passes a handful of bills over to Michael, "For the taxi. In case your cash is soaked too. I'll let the others know."

 

He's not quite sure how to respond to that other than with profound relief, so he only nods, claps Abner on the arm in thanks and gets into the waiting taxi. The drive to the hospital doesn't take too long, but Michael spends the length of it tensely keeping Gadreel awake. The other man slowly getting more and more grumpy at the coddling.

 

When the nurses sweep Gadreel away to be checked over Michael's at a loss for what to do with himself. He stands there gazing blankly at the curtain Gadreel's been whisked away behind, until a gentle touch to his arm thumps his attention back to the present. The nurse smiles gently and hands him a towel and it's not until then that Michael realizes he's dripping all over the hospitals floor.

 

"Why don't you come dry off and I'll get you something warm to drink." The nurse says, and Michael follows her into the waiting room. While he dries off the best he can the nurse slips away and returns with a steaming cup of tea and a little portable heater.

 

"Just relax in here, and I'll come fetch you once we've sorted out your friend." She chirps, and then hurries out of the waiting room before Michael can reply. It's a little galling to be shuffled to the sidelines like this, but it's also pretty much what Michael was expecting, so he sips his tea and tries his best to calm down.

 

It's easier said than done. Now he's not got Gadreel right in front of him to focus on, Michael's starting to feel more than a little overwhelmed. He's never been fond of situations outside of his control at the best of times and this, this really isn't a best time. Aware that he's starting to panic, Michael closes his eyes tight and focuses on timing his breathing. He figures what works in the heat of gunfire has to help here too. By the time the nurse returns, his tea has gone cold but he's also feeling a lot calmer. And warmer, which admittedly might be helping more than the breathing was.

 

"If you'd like to come with me we're ready to discharge your friend." For a moment he considers correcting her, but it doesn't seem worth the effort. He just wants to see Gadreel, and get him home safe and sound.

Gadreel's resting against the nurses station, at some point someone found him a pair of scrubs to change into. He looks miserable, pale and drawn and utterly exhausted and Michael moves to his side rapidly, automatically reaching up to support Gadreel by his elbow. This earns him a faintly amused look from the nurse filling out the last of Gadreel's paperwork, but Michael's more interested in the way Gadreel slides in to lean against Michael's side. The nurse phones another taxi for them, and then ushers the both of them into the waiting room again.

 

Finally alone Michael reaches up to brush carefully through Gadreel's hair. The front of it's still crusted into little spikes from the salt water and it crunches slightly under his fingers. “Hey, you ok then?”

 

“Yeah,” Gadreel croaks in response. “I'm all good, concussion and drowning free. Doctor thinks I probably just stunned myself.”

 

Despite the exhaustion clouding his words Gadreel mostly just sounds grumpy, and the tightness in Michael's chest loosens with a sudden oomph of air from his lungs. He sags slightly, tension draining out of him as exhaustion rushes up to fill its space. He has to close his eyes, just for a moment, against the bone deep _relief_ of it all, and when he opens them Gadreel's staring at him, eyes tired but intense. Then he leans in to press a small, chaste kiss to Michael's lips.

 

“Thank you.”

 

Michael blames it on the giddy shock of relief he's feeling when he asks, “Why?”

 

Gadreel shrugs. “For saving me, for still being here... for looking like you do right now.”

 

“How's that?” He says, voice small and Gadreel smiles tiredly.

 

“Like you care.”

 

Michael frowns slightly, opens his mouth to respond and is promptly interrupted by the nurse popping her head into the waiting room to let them know the taxi's arrived. Then he's too busy helping Gadreel to the car and fussing over him during the trip home. His home, because he's damned if he's letting Gadreel out of his sight right now.

 

He gets them into the house, and up the stairs to his bedroom with only a bit of fuss. Michael's exhausted now, and he finds himself yawning as much as Gadreel. He takes a moment to poke through the contact list on Abner's phone, there's only one name other than Gadreel's on it that he recognizes. To Michael's relief it does turn out to be the right Charlie who picks up, and he updates her on the situation. Her relief is palpable and Michael passes the phone over to Gadreel while he digs out fresh clothes for the both of them.

 

He drags Gadreel into the shower with him, still not completely trusting him on his own, and he washes them both with quick military precision. He's had enough of water to last him a life time right now, and he's pretty sure Gadreel feels the same way.

 

Gadreel's still slightly cold to the touch once they're dried off, so Michael passes him a pair of sweatpants and an old over sized sweater from the back of his wardrobe to wear and then bundles them both under the covers and into bed. Gadreel instantly presses up close against his side, and Michael curls himself around the other man as best he can, wraps his arms around Gadreel's waist and hold's him close. He forces himself to stay away until Gadreel falls asleep, listens to his even breaths for a count of five hundred before, finally, Michael allows himself to sleep as well.

 

He dreams of tumbling under the waves, and of bright light and a man who calls him son.

 


	12. Chapter 12

Gadreel wakes, dazed and sleepy to darkness and Michael's arm curled solidly around his waist with a horrid feeling that he's being watched. He squints faintly into the room, unable to shake the suspicion but too comfortable to consider moving.

 

A car drives by outside and for a moment its headlights light up the room. There's a man stood by the window and Gadreel snaps awake, limbs tensing in preparation to move, as he draws in a deep breath to yell and -

 

"It's ok, go back to sleep Gadreel."

 

\- and his limbs relax, heavy with sleep, panicked heart slowing back to a steady thump as his eyes slide shut again.

 

And then open. There's a long moment that he spends staring at the wall of his cell in a haze of confusion and conflicting memories, and then something clicks over in his brain and a lifetime of human memories fade into the background and he's just Gadreel, disgraced Angel of the Lord staring at the wall of his prison. His chest hurts, and he screws his eyes closed again and irrationally wills himself back, back to anything but this.

 

"I want to say I'm sorry." Says a voice, and Gadreel's eyes snap open again, because he knows it, could never forget it. "The thing is I'm not, for most of it. You needed to do what you did for things to progress as they had to, ineffability in motion. I don't regret that. It had to happen."

 

God reaches out to pat at the bare skin of Gadreel's ankle absentmindedly, and his touch makes Gadreel think of the taste of coffee. He doesn't look like either of the fathers Gadreel remembers, but he's both of them and neither all at once and his smile is sad but warm when he looks at Gadreel.

 

"I am sorry that you've suffered for your part in what had to be though. It had to be you who let Lucifer in. Michael's always been so loyal, but he had to know betrayal first hand to understand the weight of what he needed to do."

 

Gadreel pulls himself up into a sitting position, pulls his knees in tight against his chest as if he can catch the pain building there at his Father's words. He can't find the words to respond, doesn't think he'd have the courage to utter them if he did. But he feels... betrayed, used in the most base of ways and it's such a human thing to feel that it leaves his head swimming, overwhelmed with the clash of memories and emotions. When God turns to face him properly he looks tired, bags under the eyes of the human guise he wears, hair a wild mess and beard unkempt. He's terrifying and humbling and the center of Gadreel's universe. Or at least, he was.

 

"You're meant to be resting now, both of you. All of your siblings are, but you two keep stirring. You keep trying to wake up. This is meant to be your reward you know, true freedom to make your own choices after an existence of obedient service. Free will and a life all of your own to live however you want to. So tell me Gadreel, what is it that's making you both so restless?"

 

He doesn't know. Can't bring himself to say even that, although it doesn't matter because God's smiling knowingly at him anyway.

 

"It's funny really how you can know everything and still miss the obvious. I thought if I gave you free will you'd choose your own paths, and you have, I just didn't realize how much your own choice would be what you already knew. I gave you the world to choose from and you both picked each other. Again. But there's too much history between you two. Too much hurt and anger and betrayal left to fester for too long. No wonder you can't let it be."

 

Gadreel opens his mouth and then closes it again, words unspoken. He hates this, the throbbing ache of his chest as he listens to truths he didn't know were true himself. He feels split open. His Father pats absently at his leg once more.

 

"It's ok, I know. Love, personal love, it's such a rare thing for you Angels, but you feel it so intensely when you do find it. I should have known you wouldn't be able to sleep once you found each other again.” God stands and stretches and then offers a hand to Gadreel. His skin tingles when they touch, like pins and needles and goosebumps all at once. “You can't continue like this though, you'll tear yourselves apart trying to remember. So I think we'll just have to accept the inevitable and speed the process up.”

 

The familiar walls of Gadreel's cell shiver when God touches them, melting away in a moment to leave only light and the smell of honeysuckle. His hand tingles in his Father's grip, and Gadreel stumbles forward when he's pulled. Bright light surrounds him, white filling his eyes and for a wild moment he feels like he's drowning, still lost under the waves. His Father's hand squeezes his once in reassurance and when he whispers, his words echo around and inside Gadreel.

 

"Time to wake up Gadreel."

 

* * *

 

Gadreel wakes alone. His head buzzes heavily, not quite pain but almost something like it. He feels full of memories, old and ancient and startlingly new all at once. It's terrible, like his skin is being stretched thin by the weight of them, like his head might burst from the pressure. It's all he can do but lie in the bed swamped by memories and emotions for what feels like hours, or maybe just minutes. It's so hard to tell past the noise.

 

Eventually the flood of memories dwindles down to a trickle, Gadreel's head still feels too full but he can think past it now. He sits up slowly, stays sat there for another long moment before he can find the willpower to climb to his feet.

 

He finds Michael in the kitchen, leaning over the counter as he watches the steady drip of the coffee pot listlessly. He doesn't have to ask if Michael remembers too, the fact that he does is written in the slump of his shoulders, in the haunted look in his eyes when he turns to look at Gadreel. Their eyes meet briefly and then Michael drops his gaze, staring down at the yellowing linoleum instead.

 

"So." Michael says, voice rough and heavy, and Gadreel sighs softly in response and slides down into a chair at the small kitchen table.

 

"So." He echoes. Michael's silence is understandable, Gadreel doesn't know what else to say either. They hover in awkward silence, neither willing to face the truth out loud just yet. There's so much new information filling Gadreel, so many differing emotions that he's left feeling numb and overwhelmed all at once.

 

After a while Michael pours himself a cup of coffee, and then, hesitating only briefly, makes another for Gadreel. He places the cup on the kitchen table with a soft click that rings out in the nighttime silence of the room. For a moment the familiar ritual eases the tightness building in Gadreel's chest, and then Michael returns to his station by the coffee machine and his heart sinks again.

 

"You must hate me." When he finally speaks Michael sounds so utterly dejected that Gadreel almost spills coffee over his lap with how fast he jerks around to stare at him. Michael's face is drawn tight with pain, and Gadreel has to swallow past the lump in his throat before he can reply.

 

"I don't hate you. I have never hated you." He says.

 

Michael scoffs, a sharp angry sound, and glowers down at his coffee cup. Gadreel's hands tighten around his own cup in response, and he takes a large gulp of still too hot coffee in an attempt to drown out his rising panic. Part of him, an ancient part, is screaming warnings that Michael is old, and powerful and not to be angered. The rest of him just wants this to be over already, for it to never have happened and to still be curled up asleep in his boyfriend's arms. He takes another gulp of his drink instead.

 

“I do,” Michael says, and when he glances up at Gadreel's soft noise of confusion his eyes are dark and hard and so very, very sad. “Hate me. I hate what I've done. What I did to you.”

 

“That wasn't you.” Gadreel says, and then frowns because that's not true. He knows its not, but it's also not really _wrong_ at the same time. “I mean - shit this is confusing - it's who we _were_ but it's not who we _are_ Michael. We're more than who we were now.”

 

“They are my memories though, my choices. I blamed and punished you for a mistake! And I don't understand it? I don't know why I thought that was the right thing to do and I don't-" his voice breaks at the end, and Michael's knuckles are white from how tightly he's gripping his cup.

 

"You were following your path. It was the only option you had." Gadreel shrugs sadly but the words are bitter on his tongue.

 

Michael growls and slams his cup down on the counter hard enough that it cracks, forming a steady pool of coffee around it. "That's bullshit! You don't treat someone you love like that!" His voice wavers slightly on 'love' and Gadreel has to close his eyes against the sharp spark of pain that lances through his chest. "That's not something a decent person does, that's not something a-" Michael snaps his mouth closed, shakes his head in frustration.

 

"A human does?" Gadreel offers, eyes fixed on his own cup as he slowly rotates it. "Not sure about that. But either way, it's what an Angel does - what an Angel did. I don't know if it's fair to blame yourself for decisions you didn't really make."

 

"That didn't stop others! That didn't stop Castiel!" He spits the name with so much venom that even Gadreel flinches, and then the realization of his words dawn on him and Michael's face collapses. After a moment he stumbles over to the kitchen table, slumps down into the chair across from Gadreel and places his head in his hands.

 

"I didn't mean that, he's my brother and I love him." He half whispers, voice broken and miserable and Gadreel wants to reach for him, but he's not sure how welcome he'd be. "Jesus, how are you so calm about this?"

 

Gadreel shrugs faintly, "I'm not. I'm... confused and scared and really angry; but I've seen what my anger results in. I had my chance to act on it and it didn't solve anything.” Memories of blood and betrayal shove forward in his mind and Gadreel has to pause, take a deep breath and another desperate gulp of coffee to push down the nausea rising in him. When he speaks again his voice is faint and wavering even to his ears. “I did terrible things with that anger Michael. You're not the only one who did wrong, but that wasn't us, not fully, and I just don't have it in me to blame you for that anymore.”

  
"But I could have-"

 

"Could have _what_? You were Michael, _The_ Archangel... and my punishment was our Fathers decree. Would you have defied him? For me, for the failed guardian of Eden, after everything that had happened?"

 

Michael growls low in his throat, and reaches up to roughly drag his fingers through his hair. "Maybe I should have."

 

"I think your brother beat you to the role of rebel child I'm afraid."

 

"This isn't funny!" Michael snaps, and Gadreel jumps slightly. "It isn't a joke Gadreel! What I did is-"

 

"History." He interrupts, "No, it's not even that. It's... Scripture. Michael you're beating yourself up over things we did in a whole other existence. You're judging your actions as an Archangel by human morals and that isn't fair to you. It isn't fair to either of us!"

 

"I-"

 

"No! Shut up and listen to me!" His voice cracks faintly under the swamp of emotions. "I'm mad too ok. This is messed up in a hundred different ways. I made a mistake and I was punished for it. A mistake that I was apparently meant to make? And that's so ridiculously unfair that I can't even start to - I spent hundreds of years in a tiny cell with only other prisoners and a sadistic guard for company and I'm so angry about that. I'm angry now and he - no, _I_ was angry about it then.” He gulps in a breath, short and sudden and almost a sob and feels all his anger drain out of him with it in defeat. “But I don't blame you, I never blamed you and you need to stop trying to tell me how I should feel about it, because god knows _I_ don't know how I feel about it right now."

 

Michael's silent, but he looks close to tears and the sight makes Gadreel's heart ache. He clenches his hands into fists and resists the urge to reach out for Michael. He's still not sure it'd be welcome, and he doesn't think he could stand being rejected right now.

 

"This is really messed up." Michael says mournfully. Gadreel suddenly feels decades older than his twenty one years, and as he reaches up to rub at his face he's struck by the realization that he _is_ that much older and more.

 

"Does this change things?" He asks, not really wanting the answer but unable to avoid it any longer.

 

Michael sighs heavily, "It changes everything I think."

 

"Oh." His voice sounds small and distant even to his ears and it's hard to swallow past the lump in his throat.

 

"Oh!" Michael's head jerks up suddenly, eyes wide and vaguely panicked. "No, not like that! I mean - I love you. There's so much going on in my head right now but if there's one thing I know it's that every part of me loves every part of you. No matter how stupid that sounds when I say it like that. I don't want what we have to end and I hope you don't either."

 

Gadreel nods hard in response, not trusting his voice to work and a look of utter relief settles into Michael's face. He reaches across the table to rest his hand on top of Gadreel's, and Gadreel's chest tightens painfully in response. He twists his wrist anyway, moving to intertwine his fingers with Michael's and clings just a bit tighter than he probably should.

 

"It's just, this is such a... massive thing to wrap my head around. Half of me knows without a doubt that it's true but the other half is just kind of running around in a panic and I need to work this out is all. Get my head on straight because I feel like... like two different people right now, and I don't know how to deal with that." Michael says.

 

Gadreel nods again, because honestly he gets it, he's feeling the same way. There's all this knowledge and memories in his head that weren't there before and while a lot of things make a lot more sense now, it still leaves him with more questions than answers. He's not really sure _who_ he is now, he's not sure how to deal with the possibility that he might not be himself _._

 

"Yeah,” He finally manages to work out past the tightness of his chest, and vaguely in the back of his head he wonders if he's going into shock. “Maybe... maybe we should both take some time, to work this out on our own?” He hates the words coming out of his mouth, but at the same time he knows they need to be said. “Just for a while. Because every time I see you I see the guy who makes me coffee and saves me from drowning and then I see you as you were. Wings and all and that-” He cuts himself off abruptly, brain realizing just before it's too late that telling Michael that the memory of him as an Archangel terrifies him is a terrible idea. Instead he takes a deep breath, and a sip of coffee. “- that's really confusing.”

 

It's Michael's turn to nod, face drawn tight and eyes suspiciously shiny. After a moments hesitation Gadreel pushes his cup over to him, and Michael latches onto it almost desperately. He graces Gadreel with a shaky smile in response and the sight makes the painful tightness of his chest lessen slightly.

 

“Yeah, I don't want to do it, but I think that's a good idea. My head's all messed up and, the uh, half of me that used to be an Angel-” Michael pauses, face twisting strangely as he lets out a painful sounding laugh. “I can't believe I just said that seriously. This is so fucked up. That part of me is terrified to let you out of my sight but that's not healthy and... yeah. Space to get this sorted out in my head seems like a good idea.”

 

Gadreel voices his agreement miserably. Honestly he's just as unenthusiastic about the idea of being separated from Michael right now. Outside the kitchen window dawn is just starting to break, and suddenly he needs to just get this over, like ripping off a bandaid. So he stands jerkily, wraps his arms around his stomach and takes a deep breath before speaking. “I think, I should go now then.”

 

Michael's face twists slightly at the announcement, but he doesn't disagree. “Yeah, yeah ok. You need anything from my room?”

 

He doesn't. His clothes are still wet, so he's still wearing the sweater and pants he'd borrowed the night before. He doesn't think Michael will mind him borrowing them for a bit longer though, and in truth he's reluctant to leave without them and the small sense of comfort they bring. When he shakes his head, no, Michael stands as well, chair scraping loudly against the floor as he does so.

 

“I'll see you to the door then.”

 

Gadreel lingers in the doorway longer than he really should, everything's gone tight and awkward between them and he doesn't know what to say or do, but he's also unable to bring himself to leave with things like this. Eventually he acts on pure impulse, crowding himself up against Michael to press a kiss hard against his lips. It's over as soon as it starts, Gadreel pulling away with a gasp that honestly hurts and _aches_ at the sound of misery Michael makes. He smiles, small and tremulous and gives Michael's hand one last squeeze before he turns to leave. He makes it half a step before he's running instead. The lost look in Michael's eyes chases him the whole way back to campus.

 

* * *

 

Gadreel spends the next week in a daze, his mind is full of memories of another time and another existence and he's finding it harder and harder to separate them from his memories of this life. The problem is that they're all true, they're all things that happened to him. At the bones of it he's both two very different people and the same person all at once, and the imbalance of it all leaves him reeling.

 

He'd gotten back to his room exhausted and miserable, and promptly had to run back out when he caught sight of his sleeping roommate, the memories of sliding his knife across Abner's throat surfacing in crystal clearness. The guilt and self loathing like the blow of a sledgehammer when it hit him, and he'd spent the next hour and a half huddled in the dorm bathroom throwing up. Every time he'd think the nausea had passed, the memory of hot blood spurting across his hand, of the way Abner had gone so still in his arms had him heaving again.

 

Fortunately that had been the worst reaction, though he'd been struck with the need to apologize furiously to Sam when he'd caught sight of him in passing between classes. He'd lost sight of the other man before he could, which really was probably for the best, though he'd spent the rest of the day with his stomach tight with guilt.

 

Charlie's been casting him little worried looks all week, and he's been out of it badly enough for a couple of his professors to notice. He doesn't know what to say to any of them, isn't sure how to explain any of this; and somehow he thinks admitting that he's so distracted in class because he's remembering what if felt like to blow himself up won't go down well at all.

 

Eventually though it starts to get better, memories come roaring to the front of his attention and then slot quietly into place in his mind, and fade into background noise. It's strange, having memories from before mankind existed, memories of his own death, all mixed in with the bike he got for his sixth birthday, and the time he broke his arm in gym class. It's a lot to take in, and he's not actually sure the human brain's made to contain this amount of information; but either his brain's something more than human, or he's got a helping hand guiding the process. He's not sure what possibility bothers him more. 

 

By the end of the second week though, he's itching to see Michael again. It's an insistent pull that's starting to become more distracting than even an Angel's existence worth of memories, but he's not really sure how to go about broaching the subject. When his brain pulls up a memory of Michael, winged and glowing and utterly wicked looking as he bends to kiss Gadreel, enough is enough.

 

He means to text or phone, but like he's under a compulsion Gadreel finds himself making the walk into town to Eden unannounced instead. He rationalizes it with the thought that he doesn't know if Michael's replaced his phone anyway, but mostly he just can't stand the thought of hearing Michael's voice but not _seeing_ him.

 

The shops name draws a laugh from him at the complete ridiculousness of it when he finally gets there, and he walks in through the shops door before his nerves can get the better of him. Steadfastly ignoring the way his hand shakes against the door handle as he does so. 

 

“Oh thank god!” The sudden announcement makes Gadreel jump and he twists around to find Gabriel barreling toward him. He claps his hands to Gadreel's shoulders, eyes wide with relief. “I don't know what happened, and I don't want to. Just please, for the love of everything _go talk to him._ ”

 

Before Gadreel can get a word in sideways, Gabriel spins him round, and pushes him across the shop floor into the storage room at the back. “Goodluck.” Gabriel sing-songs from behind him, and then slams the storage rooms door shut. Gadreel very carefully does not flinch at the sound.

 

The little room's crammed full of books, and one very startled looking ex-Archangel. Michael blinks faintly at him, and then places the book he's holding down carefully. Silence stretches between them, startled and awkward. Gadreel swallows, rubs at his arm compulsively and wonders with growing horror if he's just made a terrible mistake. When Michael finally opens his mouth to speak, Gadreel's half expecting to get shouted at.

 

“Hi.” Michael says, and then falls quiet. Gadreel stares, waiting for him to say something else until Michael starts to fidget awkwardly under his gaze. Eventually he speaks again, with something like desperation in his tone. “I don't know what to say.”

 

And Gadreel laughs. Hard and near hysterically. He laughs until his ribs start to ache from it, until he's doubled over, tears in his eyes and lungs screaming for air. At first Michael stands, rigid and seemingly unable to process this sudden turn of events, and then the spell of Gadreel's laughter seems to catch him up as well, and he joins in. They laugh themselves breathless, until Gadreel has to slide down the door behind him to sit, and Michael stumbles over to join him.

 

“I'm sorry,” Gadreel finally gasps out, wiping tears from his eyes and gulping in much needed air between giggles. “I don't know why I'm laughing.”

 

“Makes two of us then.” Michael says, and then falls silent as they both catch their breath.

 

Once he's calm Gadreel feels much better, it's like the laughter has burnt thought the last of his nervousness and the strange fog he's been living in for the past couple of weeks. He feels whole and in control once more, and he's pretty sure part of that is down to Michael sat beside him.

 

“Is it ok that I came?” He asks, voice carefully neutral.

 

“Yeah. It is. Better than ok in fact. I missed you, more than I realized I did apparently.” Michael sighs softly, and when Gadreel risks glancing over at him, he smiles. It's warm and affectionate and eases a tightness in Gadreel's chest that he hadn't even realized was there.

 

“All... squared away then?”

 

“As much as I'm ever going to be, yeah. You?” Michael smiles when Gadreel nods his affirmative, and then his face becomes serious again. When he speaks, his voice is tight and small like he's having to force the words out. “And you still don't hate me?”

 

“Michael look at me,” Gadreel's heart aches at the look on Michael's face, like he's bracing himself for the end of the world. So he reaches out to settle his hand over Michael's, and squeezes gently. “I don't hate you. I love you.”

 

Michael's throat bobs as he swallows, and his eyes look wet in the dim light of the storage room. “Love you.” He echoes, voice full of wonder, and Gadreel feels like the sun's rising in his chest. Michael's hand tightens around Gadreel's, and they sit there in content silence for a while. Eventually Michael raises to his feet, and offers a hand down to Gadreel.

  
Once he's on his feet Gadreel swallows hard, and steps in closer until he can sink his hands into the front of Michael's shirt and pull him into a kiss. It's desperate and heavy, more teeth than lips and he pours the last of the tension that's been sitting heavy in his chest into it. Michael whimpers in response, buries his own hands in the back of Gadreel's shirt and kisses back just as hungrily. His eyes are open wide when they finally pull apart, breath short and heads swimming.

 

"What was that about?" Michael asks in surprise and Gadreel smiles, rocks forward to rest his head against Michael's chest.

 

"I hadn't touched you in too long." He murmurs, rubbing his cheek against the soft fabric of Michael's shirt.

 

"It's only been a couple of weeks Gadreel." Michael responds, voice soft and tender, but his arms tighten around Gadreel's waist anyway, and he's clinging just as closely. Gadreel shrugs in response, smiling unrepentant against Michael's chest and closes his eyes with a sigh. It has only been weeks, but it's been a lot longer too.

 

The memories that have been crowding his head for the past weeks are finally silent, and Gadreel presses his face into the crook of Michael's neck and breathes in the scent of him, honeysuckle and coffee, and smiles.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're all done, thank you for sticking around for the ride!


End file.
